I'm Nothing Without You
by Garideth
Summary: SEQUEL to "I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away!" After a year of hunting alone, Gari is still trying to move on. But what happens when Sam is suddenly back, and has been the whole year? And what's wrong with him? Set in season six, of course!
1. I Have Become Comfortably Numb

**I'M BAAACK! **

**How excited are**_** you**_**?**

**First, we'll get the most important thing out of the way.**

**Happy birthday to the one and only Sam Winchester! The love of my life! The most wondrous being in the entirety of the **_**universe**_**! I love you, Sammy! And I always will, no matter what choices you make! I can't believe we've watched you grow for SEVEN YEARS—technically eight, I guess, since you had that one soulless year... Wow. I've gone back and watched a few of the episodes in the first season today in honor of you, and you were **_**so cute **_**then! You looked like a little puppy! And now you're a fucking sexy **_**beast**_**! Ah, I just love you so much!**

**And now, on to less important matters…**

**YOU ARE CURRENTLY ABOUT TO START READING THE SEQUEL TO **_**I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO STAY AWAY**_**! IF YOU'RE EVEN **_**HALF **_**AS EXCITED AS I AM, YOU SHOULD BE READY TO WET YOURSELF!**

**This chapter and the next are gonna be just catching up with the missing year, so lots of Gari having flashbacks and stuff. Sorry if that annoys you, but I like it, and it **_**needs **_**to be done!**

**I **_**still**_** do not own the boys, to my **_**utter **_**dismay. But, as always, I **_**love **_**manipulating them.**

**So go ahead, ENJOY!**

I splashed water on my face, then looked up into the filthy mirror, my hands white-knuckling the sink for support. Haunted, empty eyes, currently a deep blue-grey, gazed back at me, the terror of my nightmare only betrayed by the slight reddish hue of the whites around my irises.

I sighed deeply and ran a hand through my messy hair, making a face at its dark color and shortened length.

The day after I left Bobby's, I had gone to a drugstore and bought hair dye and a pair of scissors. I got rid of my long, natural blonde hair on which I had always prided myself, cutting it off to my chin and dying it jet black. It had grown a lot since then, though, now coming almost to my shoulders.

I had tried to tell myself that I just needed a change, that I was starting over, remaking myself, but every time I saw my reflection, Lucifer's words echoed in my head: "_He's always loved your hair."_

I tended to avoid mirrors.

I was disgusted by my reflection, by my entire _being._ I thought of every ghost, every monster, every _demon _I'd ever hunted and knew I was a _million _times worse. Those creatures couldn't help how despicable—how _evil_—they were, but I could.

But I didn't.

Back when it mattered, I hadn't been strong enough. And now that _he _was gone, I was.

I had turned down a dark road, and I knew it could only lead to utter disaster.

But I couldn't stop now. _Now _I was addicted. _Now _I depended on it.

Demon blood.

What it did to me—the adrenaline rush, the increased strength, the heightened senses, the absolute control over my powers, the all-around _high_—it was the most exhilarating feeling.

But after I crashed, I realized how disgusting I was, how _pathetic _I had become.

I'd considered going back to Bobby's and begging him to lock me in the panic room until I was clean, but he would call Dean and Ella, and I couldn't bear to see the revulsion and disappointment on their faces.

I'd even considered _killing _myself, but despite what I'd done, I still had too much pride for that.

I imagined what _he _would do if he were there.

I could almost _see _those deep, beautiful, hazel eyes, filled with disgust, but also pity and empathy and love.

_He _would understand. _He _would be there every step of the way, making sure that I would be okay. _He _would hold me when it started taking its toll on my body and mind, and he would stay calm and supportive and tell me how much he loves me…

Oh, _God,_ I missed him.

I watched in the mirror as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together firmly. "What do I do, Sam?" I croaked, then let out a little gasp of pain. _Keep talking. Nothing else has helped. You _have _to get past this. It's been a year._ "I miss you so much. It's been so hard without you. I wish you were with me…"

It was the first time I'd said his name in a year, and it still hurt just as bad as when he first left.

"Why can't I move on?" I asked aloud, my voice cracking slightly. "Why can't I just accept the fact that you're gone? Why can I still feel you everywhere? You're _dead_—" I choked out the word, and misery washed over me. "—I saw it happen. So why does it feel like you're still here?"

I stared into the mirror, waiting—for what, I don't know. An answer, I suppose, but I knew I wasn't going to get one.

I sighed again and brushed the tears from my face, then turned away from the mirror and walked back to my bed. I laid back on it and stared up at the cracked plaster of the ceiling, trying to think of a way to keep my mind off of my nightmare and the memories that it brought forth.

I closed my eyes, exhaustion making my lids heavy. I'd been keeping very busy, hardly leaving any time for dwelling on the past. But it was nights like these where the past was inescapable.

As I tried to clear my mind, my hand went absentmindedly to the amulet that Bobby had given me and my thoughts strayed to Ella.

A year.

I had been away from her for a _year. _A whole year with no contact of any sort, not even a text message. And I was suffering.

I knew that it had been my choice to leave her, and I knew that it had been the _right _choice. But, man, did I regret it.

The past year had been the most miserable time of my life, even more miserable than the years before she and Greg found me.

She had never let me dwell on the past or wallow in misery—which seemed to be all I did now—and she had always been there to at least _try _to comfort me. And I missed that. I missed _her._

But finding her again would mean finding Dean. And even though he looked almost _nothing _like his brother, those few similarities would drive me mad with grief.

Ella _had_ tried to keep up contact with me, of course. I was the one who didn't reply.

Once she and Dean found a house, she called and left a voicemail telling me the address. She called again to tell me that she'd had her babies, but that I already knew—I'd had one of my weird dreams and witnessed the entire thing. I saw Dean faint when she went into labor, and made a mental note to ridicule him about it if I ever got up the courage to see him again.

I was there when Dean came into their house, fresh tear tracks on his cheeks, as he held up his amulet for Ella to see. I had known that Sam had kept it, but I hadn't known what he did with it. I then learned that Dean found it shoved at the back of the glove compartment in the Impala.

When I woke up from that one, I was sobbing, and I didn't stop for a long, long time.

Ella called a few more times to check up on me, but had eventually realized that I was purposely ignoring her and stopped all contact.

I wished she hadn't. Her voicemails had been one of the few things that kept me going.

But I _had _been keeping up with her and Dean. Due to the demon blood, I could now bring the dreams on practically whenever I wanted. I did it almost every night—anything was better than my nightmare.

It had gotten worse since I left Ella. Now I always woke up screaming.

It was always the exact same thing. It started with Dean coming out of that warehouse in Detroit, his eyes filled with hopelessness as he said, "He's gone."

Then it jumped to show the most intense moments of my dream of Lucifer, a constant reminder of how utterly _horrible _I was.

Out of everything bad that I had ever done, even drinking the demon blood, _that _was the worst. And what made it even more terrible was the fact that I could still remember his gentle yet commanding touch and all of my ravenous lust for him. I _hated _him, but that hatred was nowhere _near _the amount of loathing I felt for myself.

The last part of the nightmare took place in Stull Cemetery, starting with Lucifer killing Castiel, progressing through his assault on Dean, then skipping to the moment that the cage closed, swallowing the only man I had ever loved and ripping him away from me forever.

I could never go back to sleep after I had it, and I really didn't know why I still tried. For the first few months, I had been a borderline insomniac, afraid of what I would see when I closed my eyes.

And then I started drinking the demon blood and realized what it could do.

I could still clearly recall my first taste of the poison and the way that first hit had made me feel. I even remembered what the unfortunate blood donor had looked like, the exact spot from where I had taken his blood, the location of the incident, the thoughts leading up to that moment, _everything_—it was all just floating around in my head, waiting to ambush me when I least expected it.

This was one of those times.

It was about six months after I had gone solo. I was in Arkansas, checking into a simple spirit, when I noticed that I was being followed. _Demons _was the first thought that went through my head. They had been following me a lot since I left Ella, but I never got any answers out of them.

But this time was different.

The demon made his move when I went down an alley, just like I knew he would. I turned and blocked his attack, then slammed him into the wall, my powers giving me extra force and busting his head open against the bricks. He had been shocked, his hand going to the back of his head and coming back covered with blood, but it didn't stop him from attacking me again.

His bloody hand clawed at my face, smearing the sticky red substance all over my lips, and that was when I had my first taste.

I wasn't sure if it was _good_, to be honest, but the effect was _explosive. _It sparked on my tongue and sent a wave of adrenaline through my entire body, and then it was gone, leaving only a slightly rusty aftertaste in my mouth.

I knew immediately that I needed more, that I needed whatever that feeling had been, no matter what the side effects might've been. For that split second that the blood had touched my tongue, I hadn't felt hopeless and defeated, like I was simply going through the motions of living. I had felt _whole_, just like my old self, and I desperately wanted that back.

So, instead of using my powers to kill the demon, I lunged at him, knocking us both to the ground. I pressed one knee into his stomach to keep him pinned, then took my dagger from my boot and held it to his neck. "Why are you following me?" I growled, and the demon eyed my blade nervously.

"Orders!" he answered readily. "We're under orders from Crowley to keep an eye on you!"

"And why would he want that?"

"I dunno, I'm just one of his cronies, okay? He doesn't tell me anything!"

"You're _scared_ of me, aren't you?" I realized, a slight bit of surprise tingeing my voice.

"Of _course_ I'm scared of you; you're Crowley's protégée, the witch with the demon blood!" His eyes, currently black as night, grew wider as I pressed the knife harder into his throat. "Please, don't kill me! I told you all I know!" He gasped as I just barely nicked his neck, and I stared, transfixed, as the smallest droplet of blood attached itself to my dagger.

Suddenly, he started to laugh. "Oh, you tasted it, didn't you?" he asked, grinning. "It's all over your face; it must've got in your mouth, too. Oh, Crowley's gonna _love _this. It's about time you went dark side, Garideth."

"_Shut up!_" I snarled, pressing the blade in even harder. More blood seeped forth from the wound, and my breath hitched in my throat, my heart pounding with the unimaginable want—no, _need_—that was filling me.

I loomed over his neck and he chuckled, the smallest trace of panic under the usual snarky tone that demons used. "Go ahead," he coaxed. "Do it."

_Just one taste. Just one demon. I _won't _become addicted to this. I _won't _insult Sam's memory. Just one taste…_

I sliced deeper into the demon's neck and pulled my dagger away, then quickly put my mouth to the gash. The blood flowed into my mouth and over my tongue, burning its way down my throat and through my body, and I found that I didn't want to stop drinking. I could drain this monster completely and still not have enough.

By the time I was done, I was trembling with adrenaline. I briefly thought back to how Sam had changed after drinking all of that blood to get his body ready for Lucifer, how unlike himself he had been.

But I didn't feel like that. I felt as though I had never been myself before that moment, only a ghost of what I was meant to be. I had never felt more in control or more invincible. I had never felt more _alive._ The sensation was indescribable in its magnificence, and I never wanted to come back down from the elated high that I was experiencing.

Later, once I had crashed, once I had realized what I had done, I'd gotten violently sick and ended up puking my guts up in the toilet. And when I noticed the deep red color, it only made me more nauseous. I stayed by the grimy toilet for at least three hours, occasionally retching and wallowing in self-loathing the entire time.

I swore that I would never do it again, but I was fooling myself if I even considered that a possibility.

Even without the feeling of completion and control, I wouldn't be able to give it up. It had done more than just given me that.

In some sick, twisted way, drinking the demon blood made me feel close to Sam. And I wouldn't give that up for anything.

**So how do you feel about it? Are you shocked and alarmed?**

**I know, it's kinda tragic, but be real. Things won't get happy for a **_**long **_**time. Not until Sammy gets his soul back, **_**at least.**_

**Oh, speaking of Soulless Sam, I don't really plan on spending a lot of time during his soulless days. Those episodes were pure **_**torture **_**for me, even **_**Clap Your Hands if You Believe**_**, though it was hilarious. I can**_**not **_**deal with Sammy being so cold and uncaring. The reason I love him so much is because he is the exact **_**opposite **_**of that. So, just bear with me if I sorta skip a few episodes.**

**Also, Ella won't be in this as much as she was the first one. She has the twins now, and she has an actual **_**house,**_** so, while she **_**will **_**still be in it, she just won't be as much of a major player.**

**AH! Cas is coming back on this week's episode! And we have so few left until the finale! I think it's just two or three more! And then we're rid of Sera Gamble **_**FOREVER**_**! AH!**

**And I think that's it… Until next time, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	2. See What's Going On Inside My Mind

**Words cannot express how totally sorry I am and how awful I feel about posting this so late! It's been over two weeks and I feel like the worst person alive! I've just had so much going on! I had to do this stressful Chemistry project that was like twenty or thirty percent of my grade and I now have longer shifts at work and I have two projects due on Friday and my final exams are coming up next week and AH, I'm so stressed! And SO sorry!**

**Now, I'm not gonna say anything about the season seven finale because if I start, I won't be able to stop. (So, someone message me if you wanna rant like crazy about it!) All I can say is that Sera Gamble didn't go out with a bang—she went out with a **_**nuclear explosion**_**! Thank Castiel that we're finally rid of her! But damn, Jeremy Carver's gonna have to do a **_**hell **_**of a lot of damage control… **

**Hehehe Gari has a "Wait your turn" moment in this chapter! (One of my favorite Sam scenes… Mmm…) And she's also being pitiful and insane like before. Again, sorry about that, but it had to be done! But, don't worry, in the third chapter, things will change!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

The spirit of Marjorie Johnson slammed me back into a tombstone and my head knocked against it, causing black spots to appear in my vision. My lighter went flying out of my hand and landed somewhere near the ghost. "God_dammit_," I cursed, shakily getting to my feet. "What a _bitch_."

Marjorie gave an odd cry and came at me again, but I dove out of the way just in time. I army-crawled to the spot where my lighter had fallen and frantically searched for it in the darkness. Why _did I leave my shotgun in the car? _I wondered, kicking myself for being so cocky. _Note to self: demon powers do _not _work on angry ghost-hermits._

My hand closed around something small and metallic and I gave a sigh of relief. _Finally! _I pushed myself onto my feet and dashed to the unearthed grave, skidding to a halt as Marjorie appeared in front of me. _Fuck._

"_They _did this to me!" she screeched. "They _killed _me!" Her fingers dug into her palms and her hair whipped about her face. _Whoa, I wish my hair did that… _I edged around her, taking tiny steps toward the grave and praying she wouldn't notice. "They _deserve _to die!" she yelled.

"Sweetie, we _all _deserve to die," I replied with a smirk, then I dropped my lighter into the grave. Marjorie let out a shriek of frustration and agony as she went up in flames and vanished. "Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I," I finished quietly, my smirk growing.

My grin suddenly faded as I thought of how freaked Ella had been after watching that movie. Demons, she could deal with. But Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter pretending to kill people and make them into meat pies? Nope. No good.

_Stop it, Gari. You _know _how unhealthy this is. If you miss her so much, go see her!_ "Shut up, voice of reason!" I said aloud. "Oh, great, now I'm arguing with myself."

With a sigh, I trudged back to my car, the old black '65 Mustang GT Bobby had given me so long ago. _It was only a year. Why does it feel like ten? _

It had been two weeks since I last had the nightmare, but I knew I was pushing my luck at holding it off. I hadn't had the blood in about five days, and I was beginning to have trouble summoning the dreams. I needed another hit, and I needed it fast.

On the way back to the hotel I was staying in, I saw a gas station on the side of the road and parked my car in an empty spot. I was running on empty, and I was _starving._

As soon as I walked in, I could smell them. _Demons. _Two of them.

I quickly backed out of the little store and walked behind it, knowing that they would follow.

Sure enough, not even a minute had passed before they came strutting around the corner, wearing those idiotic "menacing" grins.

"Perfect timing, boys," I said casually, wearing a grin of my own. "I was getting pretty thirsty." They lunged at me simultaneously, but I leapt nimbly out of the way. "C'mon, fellas," I teased, "I'm '_Crowley's protégée,' _remember? You're gonna have to do better than that!"

"Shut up, bitch!" growled one of them.

"Aw, how cute!" I laughed lightly. "Your insults need work, too!" They became more and more frustrated as I continued to dodge their attacks, and I couldn't help the elated laugh that escaped me. At that moment, I was _totally _in my element. The promise of getting more of the blood overwhelmed all of my thoughts and my entire body, making me feel almost as energetic and euphoric as I was when I actually drank some. _A little workout, and then a snack for the road! _"Hey, guys, look! We're _dancing_!" I exclaimed.

"Stay still, dammit!" the other cursed. "Fight back!"

"Oh, I will," I assured him, slowing down the slightest bit. "I'm just waiting for the opportune moment!" Just then, I noticed an opening in his defenses. "Like… _now_!"

In one fluid movement, I pulled the dagger from my boot and drove it into the side of his neck, grinning satisfactorily as the blood poured from the wound.

"_Fuck_!" the demon yelped, stumbling backward. He jerked my knife out of his neck and tossed it on the ground, looking angrier than ever. His friend took a small step back, his jet-black eyes glinting with fear and wariness.

"That was _pretty _stupid," I commented offhandedly, raising my eyebrows. Before the demon could say anything, I tackled him to the ground, my mouth immediately seeking the wound. Shivers of pleasure went down my spine as the blood flowed through my body, and already I felt ten times stronger and completely reinvigorated.

"_Get her off_!" my victim yelled frantically, and his partner tried in vain to pull me away.

Without looking, I threw my hand out behind me and smirked as I heard the other demon hit the wall.

After I finished with the first demon, I killed him easily, merely closing my eyes and focusing my powers on him. With a brilliant flash of orange light, he moved no more.

I jumped to my feet and went over to the other one. He was still unconscious. _Sweet._

With only the smallest amount of effort, I managed to get both of the bodies to my car without being seen. I decided to drain the other when I wasn't in a public place, so I got into the driver's seat and headed for my hotel.

I tried not to think about the fact that I was killing humans by doing this. If I thought about it, I'd feel guilty and start wallowing in self-loathing again. I couldn't do that. I _needed _that blood. I _needed _that power.

I needed _help_.

Now I knew how Sam felt, why he always thought he was a monster. If he was anything like me, he'd never hated anything more fiercely than he hated himself.

_At least I'm not screwing a demon_, I thought wryly, then immediately gasped aloud at what a terrible thought it had been. _Why the _fuck _did I think that? Do I _really _have to put my foot in my mouth even when I'm not actually _talking_?_

"I'm_ so_ sorry, Sam," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to myself over the blaring guitar solo of Metallica's "Unforgiven.""I didn't mean that."

I'd been doing that a lot lately—"talking" to him. And, surprisingly, it was helping. I didn't feel so alone if I imagined him there. _Why didn't I think of this 'talk therapy' thing before? _…_Oh, yeah, I did. I was just too scared to try it._

"I know how crazy I am for talking to you—well, pretending to, anyway. And I know you're gone, and I know you can't talk back, but I _need _this. I need _you_. I need to at least _act _like you're here. If that makes me insane, then fit me for a straightjacket."

I sighed. "It's kinda funny how needy I've become, isn't it? Me, always so independent and badass—at least, _I _thought so. But I've been reduced to nothing now. Might as well ship me off to Forks to be with the other depressed, lovesick bitches." I smiled a little. "You would've laughed at that, wouldn't you? Even if you didn't get it. Ella would laugh, too. Dean would just give me that bewildered stare of his that he reserves especially for me.

"I wish I hadn't left them, Sammy. I really do. I know you and I talked about this, about me leaving, and I know it's what I wanted at the time, but I wish you hadn't let me do it. And I wish _I_ hadn't let _you _leave. But that doesn't change anything.

"I wanna go back to them, but I can't. I can't burden them with my depression and my nightmare and my attitude and my… my addiction. They have _kids _now. That's more than enough for them to deal with without my sorry ass moping around. I'm not gonna ruin the little bit of happiness they have. They deserve to be happy. Both of them. And you. You more than anyone."

Tears had fallen down my cheeks without me even realizing it, and I brushed them away as I continued. "If I could've only done something more… If I could've had more control over my powers, more knowledge of what I can do, maybe I could've stopped it. Maybe there would have been another way.

"I told you I wouldn't try to bring you back, and I've kept true to that, but it's been so hard. I'd give _anything _to have you back. I'd switch places with you right now if I had the chance. Even if I don't get to have you, just knowing you're not in the cage is good enough."

The tears flowed freely and anger and frustration burned my insides. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel and leaned my head back against the seat, taking a deep, shaky breath. "But I can't do _anything_! Nothing at all! You're stuck in there, undoubtedly being tortured endlessly by Michael and Lucifer, and I'm up here, living a normal hunter's life, with no proof that any of this ever happened except the gaping _hole_ you left behind!"

I gave a mirthless laugh. "Well, look at me. That was kinda poetic, wasn't it? Hell, I'm turning into a poet. Guess that's one good thing that came out of this," I said sarcastically, then I fell silent.

With another sigh, I glanced back over the seat to check on the demon I'd kept alive. He was still unconscious, but I didn't know for how long. I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and sped back to the hotel.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Over the past year, I'd learned that it was handy to have a back-up supply of blood on me at all times, just in case of emergency. I had a few flasks hidden in my bags and my car, but those ran low all too soon.

I'd used the new demon to refill my flasks, then I killed him. I hadn't drained all of his blood, so the human he had possessed would live. _Yay, one good deed to make up for all of the bad ones. Awesome._

As soon as I'd dealt with the empty vessel, I went to my bag in the corner of the room and pulled out a worn, battered copy of a book I'd read too many times to count. All of the others were just as well-used.

I started reading the _Supernatural _series about three months after I left. It was interesting to discover more about the boys' past, about all the trouble they got into before they met us. It made me feel closer to them, somehow, and I always found myself rereading them. _Even though they make me cry at least once every chapter…_

I flipped through the last book in the series, _No Rest for the Wicked_, and stopped at the first page of the final chapter. _Oh, boy. Here we go again. _

I progressed through it quickly, having practically memorized it from how many times I had read it before. By the end, tears were streaming down my face and I had given up on wiping them away. I could clearly picture Sam crying over Dean's bloody, lifeless body and Dean being suspended by hooks and chains in Hell, screaming his brother's name hopelessly.

I tossed the book aside and dried my eyes, my fingers being covered in the black residue from my mascara. "God_dammit,_" I cursed. "Why do I do this to myself?"

_You're pathetic, you know that? And not in the endearing, adorable, lost puppy way. In the kind of way that makes me wanna shoot myself. Well, shoot you, anyway. But that's kinda the same thing, right?_

I pulled my knees to my chest and placed my hands on my head. "_Shut up_," I growled. "_Get out of my head_."

_You know what to do. Stop drinking the blood and you'll be rid of me. It's as simple as that. But you won't do that, will you? You _can't.

That voice started verbally attacking me about a month after my addiction started. It just randomly appeared out of nowhere, and was always happy to kick me when I was down. I didn't know if it was a side effect of the blood, or maybe it was some secret, dark part of me. Hell, maybe I was even going insane. That actually seemed the most probable explanation to me. All I knew for sure was that I didn't like it, and it didn't like me.

I sighed deeply and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, trying as best as I could to avoid looking in the mirror. I was suddenly struck with a memory of Ella and me laying in a hotel bed as kids, watching some Disney movie about a girl who took her father's place in a war. _Mulan, right? Something like that. _I could distinctly remember the only part of the movie where I'd cried, the part where she was singing about her reflection showing her true self. _My theme song, apparently. Though I'm sure I wouldn't like what I see if my reflection showed the real me…_

I shook my head to rid myself of the vision, then went back to my bed. I closed my eyes and focused all of my thoughts on Ella, summoning another dream. This time it was easy.

I opened my eyes and saw that I was riding in a strange van, the bright lights of some city blurring past the window. There were a lot of people in the van, but I could only make out the one sitting in the driver's seat, staring at me—well, Ella—out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe we should just call," Ella said, sounding unsure, but also kind of excited.

"Yeah, 'cause that's worked _so _well before," Dean replied sarcastically, and Ella looked down at her hands. They twisted together in her lap nervously, and I wondered what could be having that effect on her.

"You're right," she agreed finally.

"Plus, it'll be better to tell her in person," Dean continued. "Stuff like this, you don't share over a phone call."

"_Her?" Who's "her?" Are they talking about _me_? _

"She's gonna freak out," Ella said. "And y'know she's not gonna believe it, even when she sees it. We're gonna hafta prove it to her."

"Same way he proved it to us," Dean responded. "Take all the precautionary measures all over again. It's the least he can do."

_What the fuck are they talking about?_

"Can't believe she's stayed away for a year…" Ella stared down at her hands again, and I could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hey, Elle, she had her reasons." Dean placed his hand on her leg reassuringly, and she looked up at him to see that little smirk he always wore. "This is Gari we're talkin' about. She's always had her reasons."

_So they _are _talking about me…_

"What about when she punched ya?" Ella asked wryly.

Dean sighed, a reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, even then. I was being—what was it?—an 'arrogant, self-centered dick?'"

Ella laughed loudly and nodded. "Yeah, ya kinda were." Dean left his hand on her leg and she placed hers on top of it and squeezed it gently. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

Only then did I notice the stress on his face, shown in the tightening of his mouth and the slight crease in his brow.

But something was odd. He looked almost… happy. Ecstatic, even. _I haven't seen him look like that in so long. _But the happiness was guarded and wary. _Still, he looks happy._

"Yeah, Elle," he said quietly, glancing at her affectionately. "Yeah, best I've been in a long time."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

A few hours later, a knock on my door woke me up.

**My apologies for any errors, as always. And as always, I do not own the boys, though I very much wish I did!**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**I will try my hardest to get chapter three up within the week, but I can't make any promises. On the bright side, I only have two weeks of school left, and after that, I'll have all the time in the world to devote to this!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	3. Come Back Into My Arms

**Words can't even describe how sorry I am for updating so late! I feel like the most horrible person EVER. And I swear on the River Styx and on the precious that I have **_**not **_**given up on this story! Ready for my excuses? (I make excuses a lot, don't I?)**

**Okay, first off, I had school and finals and such. Yeah, I've been out for exactly a week, so it's not as big of an excuse as it used to be.**

**Second, I kinda sorta have a boyfriend… We're not **_**dating**_**, really, but we might as well be. And we do stuff together all the time.**

**Third, I have work. Ugh.**

**And fourth—and this is the main one—I've lost my inspiration. It's like… After the season finale, I was so depressed that I just couldn't even think of what to write. So, hey, I guess that's another thing to blame Gamble for? No? Yeah, I know. It's all on me. But if it makes you feel any better, I've been working on this all day!**

**Oh, and I wanted to thank Chexyy for her review, since she's not a member and I can't PM her. I just hope she hasn't given up on me, due to my lack of updating. You're awesome, Chexyy! And thanks so much! I'm glad you like my story!**

**Not sure how happy I am with this… But, guess what? It's the reunion chapterrr!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

_Fuck. This _can't _be happening. They _can't _be _here_!_

I hadn't bargained on this. I had never planned on seeing them again. I had never wanted them to see me like this, my mind slowly deteriorating. _So, talking to Sam when he isn't there, drinking demon blood, and reading that stupid series over and over again… Anything else?_

_You forgot about me_, the voice said, and I could feel the grin in its voice.

The knock came again, louder and more persistent this time. _I can't put this off any longer, can I?_

I reluctantly got out of bed and walked over to the door. I reached for the knob, a million different thoughts running through my head, and slowly turned it.

As soon as the door was open, I was attacked by a mass of strawberry blonde curls.

"Gari!" Ella squealed, wrapping me in the most spine-crushing hug she'd ever given.

I froze, unsure of how to react. I hesitantly hugged her back. "Ella…"

She let go of me and grinned. Her smile faltered a bit as she saw my hair. "What did ya _do_?"

"I needed a change," I said flatly.

She giggled and reached up on tiptoes to ruffle it playfully. "I kinda like it, actually."

"Surprised to see us?" Dean asked, giving me his trademark smirk. He looked exactly the same as I remembered—perfectly messed up hair, piercing green eyes, model-esque lips. The only change was the addition of the amulet Sam had given him around his neck. Just seeing it made me tear up.

Before I could stop myself, I crossed over to him and wrapped him in a desperate embrace.

I was trying not to cry, but it was _so _hard. Seeing him made me think of Sam, just like I knew it would. Plus, I'd been with him and Ella every step of the way, even if they didn't know it. I'd witnessed his nightmares, and his drinking habits, and his random, uncontrolled bursts of anger. He knew how I felt. Hell, he had it worse.

He patted my back uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Taking the hint, I released him and stepped back, wiping my eyes hurriedly.

"I don't use credit cards, and my phone doesn't have a GPS feature, so how did you find me?" I asked, staring at the floor. I couldn't bear to meet their eyes. _What if they can see that I'm different? Dean's got epic instincts, and he's seen Sam on demon blood—what if he can tell?_

"Ahem," Ella said primly, and I looked up to see her tapping the necklace I had given her.

My hand went up to identical one around my neck. "Oh."

"Aren't ya… aren't ya happy to see us?" she asked, her bottom lip quivering.

A huge wave of guilt crashed over me, and I found myself hugging her again. "Of course I am, Elle. I'm just shocked. I didn't really have much warning. You could've called."

"Yeah, like you would've answered," Dean scoffed. "She called you every day for the first two months. You never answered. We didn't know if you were dead or what." As he said this, I just barely picked up on the worry in his voice and the hurt in his eyes. _So he was freaking out, too. Oh, great, now I feel even _more _guilty._

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I just needed time."

"A _year_?" Ella exclaimed. "Ya needed a _year_? When ya said it wasn't goodbye, I didn't think ya meant it would be for a _year_." She sounded angry, but the tears streaming down her baby face said otherwise.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. _Sorry you hurt her, or sorry she found you?_ the voice whispered menacingly, and I struggled to ignore it. "This past year hasn't been that easy, and I knew it wasn't gonna be. I didn't wanna drag you two down with me."

"Gari, honey, you're my _sister_; y'know I'd do anything for ya," she reassured me. "And ya wouldn'ta dragged us down. We woulda pulled ya up!" She giggled girlishly, the laugh that never failed to make me laugh, too. _Until now._

"Alright, well, next time I sink into a depression, I'll bring you along for the ride," I said, still unable to force emotion into my voice.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asked me, and I looked away again.

"No, not really. Haven't been for a year. I wonder why." I glared at Dean, trying to push down the irrational anger that rose up inside of me. That was another downside to the blood: my emotions were even more out of whack than usual.

_I'm not a downside, am I? _the voice asked innocently, and I cringed slightly as its laughter echoed in my head.

"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, thankfully not having noticed my miniature freak out. The corner of his mouth twitched upward the slightest bit and I couldn't imagine what was funny.

"Why the fuck are you here, anyway?" I snapped, my frustration getting the better of me.

"Well…" Ella began. "We were gonna call, but we figured ya wouldn't answer…"

"Ella, seriously. What's the deal?"

"Ya can't freak out, okay? Well, I mean, ya can, and ya prob'ly will, just don't freak out too bad." She had a huge smile on her face now, and Dean looked like he was trying to hide a grin.

"What the fuck—?"

"Hey, Gari."

_That voice… No, it can't be…_

I froze midsentence and spun toward the voice. Leaning casually against the doorframe was an extremely tall, muscular figure—the most beautiful man I'd ever seen, the only man I'd ever loved.

"Sam…"

My legs buckled beneath me and I felt myself falling. He was there in an instant, catching me before I hit the ground. _He… he feels so _real_… _

"Hey, hey, whoa, Gari, you okay?" he asked worriedly, helping me to my feet. He kept his arm around my waist to support me and I leaned against him, staring up into those gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Is it… is it really you?" I asked shakily, and he grinned, causing my heart to flutter erratically, just like it always had before.

"Yeah, Gari," he replied. "It's really me."

That's when the tears came.

I buried my face in his massive chest, crying openly—for him, for me, for us. After everything we'd been through, and after I thought I'd lost him forever, he was back. _Sam _was back. And he was holding me in his arms, and the hole in my heart was gone, and it was as if he had never left.

I finally pulled back, wiping my eyes and giving him a watery smile. _Great, your reunion begins with you crying all over him. Classy. _Very_ classy. _

"But… but how?" I croaked out. "I… I saw you _die_! We all did! You were _gone_! How are you back?"

"I dunno," Sam told me. "I woke up in that cemetery in Lawrence. No clue who—or what—pulled me back up."

"So how long have you _been _back?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean frown deeply, and Ella took a step back warily. _Oh, boy, what now?_

Sam looked away guiltily. "A year…"

If I hadn't been so intent on never letting him go again, I would've jumped back in disbelief and rage.

"A _year_?" I yelped. "So you've been back practically this _whole time_, and you never came and got us? You never came and got _me_? What the _fuck_, Sammy?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just… Ella and Dean finally got out, and—"

"And me?" I prompted. "What about _me_? You _knew _that I was gonna leave them. You _knew _why. You _knew _the effect your death would have on me! Yet you still stayed away for a _year_? You let us—let _me_—believe you were _dead _for a _year_?"

"Gari, please, listen to me," he pleaded, fixing me with those puppy dog eyes. _There's something off about him, you can sense it. Look at his eyes. They're empty,_ the voice hissed, but I ignored it again. "I wanted to give you a chance."

"A chance to do _what_?"

"To move on! To live a better life! Even though I knew you were gonna keep hunting, you were better off without me. I put you in danger _every minute_ you spent with me. And you got away!"

"Sam, it's not up to you what I do with my life. If I had wanted to leave you, I would've _before _I got involved." I stared up at him defiantly, but his words got to me. _That's my Sammy, _I thought, feeling slightly proud, _always thinking of others first. He stayed away to protect me. Of course._

"I know," he said. "And I'm sorry. I should've found you. But I can't change the past. You're just gonna have to accept me now. Please, Gari, forgive me."

I sighed, momentarily resting my head on his chest again. "Of _course _I forgive you, Sammy. How could I not, after that little speech? And then there's the whole fact that I love you…"

He grinned again and pressed his lips to mine, his hand tightening around my waist and pulling me closer. I subconsciously lifted up to deepen the kiss, an almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy overwhelming me.

_I have him back. I have my Sammy back. And I'm never letting him go again._

Suddenly, Ella's phone rang, and Sam and I broke apart.

I rolled my eyes at Ella's ringtone, the same cheesy pop song she'd had for ages, and she stuck her tongue out at me as she answered her phone.

"Hey, Dev," she said, a smile on her face. It suddenly faded and her brow creased worriedly. "What's wrong? Is it the kids? Dev, ya gotta calm down; I can't understand what you're sayin'! Devon! Chill, honey, ya gotta—!"

Dean jerked the phone from her hand and put it to his ear. "Devon, it's Dean. You need to calm down and tell me what's wrong," he said sternly, and it seemed to work, for the rambling previously heard from the other end had stopped. "Okay. Devon. I want you to _calmly _tell me what's wrong. You think you can do that for me?"

As Dean listened to the frantic teenager, I glanced at Sam out of the corner of my eye and soaked in his appearance. He looked good—better than good, _amazing. _

Something was off, though. He held himself differently. Before, he had slouched slightly out of insecurity, but now he stood straight and proud, the perfect vision of confidence and self-assurance.

_Why is this so unsettling to me? Shouldn't that be a good thing? He has confidence in himself. That's a good thing. It's totally a good thing. _

_But it's not your Sammy, is it? _the voice said mockingly. It was becoming harder to ignore.

"Okay, what do these guys look like? Black eyes, flickering bodies, anything unusual?" Dean prompted the teen. "Tattoos? What kind of tattoos? Tribal?" He pulled the phone away from his ear momentarily. "The djinn?" he mouthed at Sam, who nodded. "Ah, shit."

"Devon, listen to me," Dean said urgently. "You and Jess need to take the kids and lock yourselves in the basement closet. You know which one I'm talkin' about? Good. There's a shotgun in there, too. I'm guessin' you already know how to use it, but _don't _unless you absolutely have to. We're a few hours away; we'll be there as soon as we can. Call me if anything else happens."

With that, he ended the call and tossed the phone back to Ella.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"We gotta get back to Abbeville," he announced. "_Now._"

**So… what'd you think?**

**Sorry for any errors.**

**Yes, I am bringing Devon and Jess back. I thought for **_**ages**_** about how Ella was gonna just leave her kids, then I decided she could get the neighbors to babysit or something. But then I just thought, "Hey, what if I made them live in Abbeville, and I bring Devon and Jess back?" And tada! There you have it!**

**So, review it, please!**

**And I will try to get the next chapter up sooner than this one! Again, I am **_**so **_**unbelievably sorry! You guys can never hate me as much as I hate myself for this!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	4. D Is For Djinn

**Alright, let the hatred commence!**

**I know how late this update is, and you guys have **_**no idea **_**how incredibly sorry I am!**

**The only excuse I'm making is the inspiration one. I can't deal with Soulless Sam. I mean, he is my least favorite character **_**of all time **_**out of any villain from any TV show, movie, **_**or **_**book, and I have to write him for lot of chapters! I thought I couldn't hate him any more than I already did, but then I started writing him and **_**ugh! **_**It's just so daunting, and it's just so terribly **_**wrong.**_** Sammy shouldn't be like that!**

**Sorry, I was ranting.**

**This is the first time that the song I got the chapter title from has no meaning behind it whatsoever. I just couldn't find a song that fit the chapter, so I went to this lyrics website, typed in "djinn," and got **_**Crazy ABC's **_**by Barenaked Ladies. But you **_**should **_**still listen to this song because it is hilarious! I love it!**

**Anyway… here's the fourth chapter.**

"Dude, what's the deal with the rape van?" I asked as we left the hotel room.

Dean smirked as Ella said, "Yeah, I asked that too."

Sam slid open the back door of the van, exposing three other people, two men and a woman. "Gari, this is Gwen, Mark, and—"

"Christian," the other man broke in, giving me a wide, cocky grin. I recoiled instantly, eyes wide with alarm.

_His face. He's a _demon_! Oh, God, what do I do?_

_Well, you can't tell them, can you? _the voice said smartly. _They'll know that something's off. They'll know what you've become. And _you _know what will happen then…_

I knew that the voice was right. I knew that I couldn't say anything, and Christian knew it, too. His grin grew even wider, smugness etched on every line of his terrible face.

"Guys, this is Gari," Sam continued, oblivious to mine and Christian's exchange.

"So we came all this way to pick up your girlfriend?" Gwen asked, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.

I bristled with indignation, opening my mouth to bless her out, but Sam cut me off. "Gwen, please. Relax. She can help. Have I ever led you wrong before?"

Gwen stared at Sam skeptically, and he returned her gaze, his face stern and commanding. Finally, she sighed. "Fine, whatever."

I gazed at Sam, shocked at what I had just witnessed. I'd never really known him to be one to take charge before, but from what I could gather, he was kind of like their leader. Apparently, Gwen trusted him enough to follow him into battle, and judging by the look on his face, Mark did too.

_Okay, this is just too weird. What life-changing experience happened to make him take control like that? _I froze, amazed at my own stupidity. _Duh, _Hell_. The Cage. Any of that ringing a bell, Gari?_

"Hey, can we go now?" Dean said agitatedly. "In case you forgot, we got a djinn problem back at _my house,_ where _my kids _are!"

"Yeah, y'all, we gotta get goin'," Ella added, a desperately pleading note creeping into her voice. "Please!"

"Get in," Sam ordered, and we all obeyed instantly.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

About an hour had passed without any of us talking. I finally got fed up and turned to Gwen and Mark. "So how d'you guys know Sam?" I asked.

"We're family," Mark said, his voice deep and quiet. "Campbells."

"On Mary's side," Gwen added. "The hunter side, obviously."

"I thought all of their family was dead," I said, feeling confused.

"No, we just know how to stay under the radar," Christian piped up from behind me, and a shiver of disgust went down my spine. _Just ignore him. Wait until you get the chance and just… accidentally spill holy water on him or something. That way no one will get suspicious._

"Just wait till you meet the big guy," Gwen told me, a smile of sorts on her face. "Hell, he has some stories to tell." She seemed to be warming up to me a little, and I was actually kind of glad. If these people were Sam and Dean's family, I wanted them to like me. "So, you guys sisters or something?" she asked, glancing between Ella and me.

"Something," I said.

"My daddy saved her and she started huntin' with us," Ella added. "We've been inseparable for ages, and—"

"No need to tell our life's story, Elle," I cut in. "No offense," I said to Gwen. "I just don't know if I can trust you yet."

"None taken," she replied. "Can't be too careful."

I grinned slightly and glanced up to the front of the car, looking at Sam and Dean. They were unusually quiet after being separated for a year and it unnerved me. _They should be having some deep, meaningful conversation about how much they missed each other, not staring straight ahead at the road! Even if we _are _rushing to save Dean and Ella's kids!_

Gwen interrupted my thoughts, saying, "So… you and Sam…?"

I laughed tersely, biting my lip. "Yeah, we were together before he, well, y'know." _He's back now. Why am I still having trouble talking about it? _

"Sam!" Dean snapped, drawing all of our attention. "Could ya go a little faster? My kids' lives are at stake here!"

"Relax, Dean," Sam replied calmly. "I told you, we've got someone watching your house."

"Oh, yeah? Then how the hell'd the djinn even get close enough to the house to freak Dev out?"

"I'm sure Johnny's handling it. The kids will be fine. So will Devon and Jess. We'll make it back in time and make sure they're okay." Sam temporarily took his eyes off the road to look at Dean. "Just calm down. Trust me, Dean. They'll be okay."

"We gotta get 'em somewhere safe, Dean," Ella piped up, stretching out to place her hand on his arm. "Maybe Bobby'll help?"

Dean glanced back at Ella, his face relaxing the slightest bit. "Yeah, alright," he sighed. "I'll call him. But I doubt he's gonna be too happy about havin' babies around."

I laughed. _Oh, God, I hope I'm there to see the old man's face when this happens!_

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I practically sprinted up the old porch steps, skipping over the third one. I knew it creaked suspiciously even at the slightest pressure, and I was always wary that it would collapse. _I didn't realize how much I'd gotten used to this place. I'm not even in the house yet, but I already feel at home. _I knocked on the door, barely able to contain my excitement. 

A wide grin stretched across my face as Bobby Singer opened the door. "Hey, Bobby!" I said happily. "How's it hanging?"

He scowled deeply at me, unexpected anger on his face. "Ya lose the ability to use a phone or somethin'?" he started, his voice rising slightly in volume. _Ah, shit. _"A year, Gari! A goddamned _year_! Ya were s'posed to keep in touch! For all I knew, ya coulda been dead!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" I said, putting my hands up in a defensive gesture. "I had some… stuff… to sort out."

"We all had 'stuff' to sort out, girl!" Bobby snapped. "But we coulda done it _together_!"

"What d'you want me to say, Bobby?" I said plaintively. "I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to scare you or worry you or anything else like that." I dropped my hands to my sides and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry."

The older hunter glared at me for a minute more, obviously trying to stay angry, but he soon gave up. He pulled me into a rough hug and I returned it, squeezing my eyes shut against the odd, unwelcome feeling of tears brimming in my eyes.

"It's alright, kid," he said as he let me go. "Just stay in touch next time, why don't ya? Give an old man some peace of mind?"

"You got it, dude!" I gave him a thumbs up and he chuckled.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said slowly, coming up the steps behind me. Ella walked beside him, closely followed by Devon and Jess, who were both trying to quiet the babies in their arms.

"Sorry 'bout this, Bobby," Ella said. "We just didn't know where else to go. We figured a gazillion miles away was pretty safe."

Devon walked up the stairs and stared at Bobby thoughtfully for a minute. "Is your last name 'Singer,' by any chance?" she asked, shifting the baby to her other hip. _Okay, she's catching on to this, isn't she? _

"That'd be me," he replied, confused.

"Hmmm... Interesting..." The teen narrowed her eyes for a minute, then grinned. "Anyway, I'm Devon! That's my little sister, Jess! Nice place you got here. Kinda decrepit, but in a good way. It's homey. More homey than our home. Do you have any good books? I like your hat. It's very trucker-chic."

Bobby gawked at Devon, obviously overwhelmed, and I laughed. She'd really come out of her shell since I first met her. "Devon, why don't you and Jess take the babies inside?" I suggested. "Up the stairs, first door on the right. That's my room."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Devon replied, saluting me and marching into the house. Jess rolled her eyes and followed her sister inside.

"Don't touch the décor, okay?" Bobby called after them. "Assume it's all loaded!"

"Copy that!" Devon yelled back.

"I'm not even gonna ask," he muttered to himself. "So, ya wanna tell me why the hell you two are here?" He raised an eyebrow at Dean and Ella, and Dean smirked.

Just then, Sam walked up, hands shoved in his pockets and looking kind of ashamed of himself. "Hey, Bobby," he said.

Bobby merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Sam."

"You _knew_?" Dean and I gasped simultaneously. Ella's eyes widened to twice their normal size and her hands flew over her mouth.

"You _knew_ Sam was alive—" Dean began.

"—and you didn't _tell_ us?" I finished angrily.

"Yeah," the older hunter replied.

"How long?" I asked, clenching my fists in an effort to control my fury.

"Look—"

"_How long_?" I repeated fiercely.

He sighed in defeat. "All year."

"Oh, you gotta be _kidding _me," Dean said, running a hand over his face.

"And I'd do it again!"

"_Why_?"

"Because you got out, Dean!" Bobby replied, pleading with Dean to understand. "And I was so damn grateful; you got no idea."

"Do you have any clue what walking away meant for me?" Dean asked, biting back on his anger the slightest bit.

"Yeah—a woman and two kids and not gettin' your guts ripped out at age 30!" Bobby shot back.

"Ella and the kids—stayin' with them was Sam's dying wish! D'you think I would've just given up if I knew he was gonna come _back_?" Dean glared at Sam accusatorily, now directing his rage at his brother. "That year was the _worst _year of my friggin' life! I was angry all the time, I drank too much, I had nightmares. I looked _everywhere_. I collected hundreds of books, trying to find _anything _to bust you out."

"You promised you'd leave it alone," Sam said calmly.

"Of _course_ I didn't leave it alone!" Dean snapped. "Sue me! A damn _year_? You couldn't put me outta my misery?"

"Look, I get it wasn't easy," Bobby said slowly, obviously trying to stop the argument as soon as possible. "But that's life! And it's as close to happiness as I've ever seen a hunter get. It ain't like I wanted to lie to you, son. But you were _out_, Dean."

"Do I look out to you? Do my _kids _look out to you?"

"And what about me?" I said angrily, turning to Sam. "I had nothing. No kid, no family, no home, _nothing._ So how the _fuck _did that help me?"

"Gari, we had this conversation already," he replied, sounding annoyed. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I know I'm cursed, and _you _know I'm cursed, and I was giving you the chance to move on! I was giving you the chance to be happy!"

"Do relentless nightmares and almost-suicidal depression seem happy to you?" I spat. He looked at the ground, at a loss for words. "Didn't think so!"

"Did_ you_ ever try to bring me back?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, I didn't! Because, for some reason, even though I saw you die, I couldn't accept that you were gone! Guess I was right all along, huh?" I glared at Sam furiously, but he just shook his head in exasperation.

"I'm gonna go check on the kids," Ella piped up meekly. She gave Bobby a brief hug, said, "Nice seein' ya again," then hurriedly went inside. Dean glared at Sam and Bobby for a minute longer before following her.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb, then walked into the house. I went directly to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, taking a long swig and instantly relaxing.

"Don't tell me ya turned into an alcoholic since I last saw ya," Bobby said as he followed me, and I grinned.

"On occasion," I replied. "More often than I'd like to admit, actually."

"So how ya been, kid?" he asked, looking at me with a paternal sort of concern.

"You want the Disney version or the flat-out truth?"

"Disney version?" he repeated, scrunching his eyebrows together.

I clasped my hands over my heart, kicked one foot up behind me and, in an annoyingly girly voice, said, "Oh, my poor heart was broken when my dear Sam left me, but I realized that if I have determination and hope, our love will continue on and sever this terrible distance between us, for not even hellfire can conquer the power of love!"

"Um… Do I wanna know?" Dean asked as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.

"Eh, probably not," I shrugged.

"I'll take your word for it." He smirked at me for a second, then walked out of the kitchen.

"Alright," Bobby said, "now that I'm scarred for life, how 'bout the flat-out truth?"

I sighed again and took another drink of my beer, trying to decide how much to tell him. "The truth… Well, I had nightmares. Actually, night_mare_, singular, 'cause it was just the same one over and over. I _was _a major alcoholic for a while there, but just to get some sleep. I kept busy—the busier I was, the less I could grieve, I guess. But mostly, I was just… broken." I stared down at the bottle in my hands embarrassedly.

"Ya shoulda stayed here for a while," he said quietly. "Put yourself back together."

"How would that have helped?" I asked. "I had a year to mourn him, and nothing changed. I was still broken, still hollow. But I'm better now," I assured him. "I mean, Sam is back. He's _here_. And now everything can go back to normal, right?"

"I sure hope so, kid," he replied. "I really do."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Gwen, Christian, and Mark had left while the rest of us were having our little reunion, but now they were back and ready to kill some djinn. Ella had stayed with Devon, Jess, and the babies at Bobby's house and the rest of us were back in the rape van, headed to Abbeville. This time, someone else was with us: an older, bald man who did not look very friendly.

"Gari, this is Samuel," Sam said. "And vice versa."

Samuel scrutinized me for a long time, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "So this is the demon witch?" he asked Sam finally.

"You _told _him?" I gasped angrily.

"He told all of us," Gwen added helpfully.

"It's okay," Mark said quietly.

"Yeah, if Sam trusts you, we trust you," Gwen said with a small smile.

I nodded gratefully. "So…" I began, looking at Samuel again, "are you a Campbell, too?"

"He's Big Daddy Campbell," Gwen told me.

"Our grandfather," Sam explained at the look on my face.

"Well, nice to meet you, I guess," I told "Big Daddy Campbell," who still didn't look very happy to be working with a "demon witch."

"So, what's the plan?" Dean asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Well, once we get there, we stock up, get set," Christian said, and shivers of revulsion went down my spine at his voice. I didn't look at him, staring straight ahead at the road.

"So you're saying there's no plan."

"We'll find 'em. Just gotta be patient."

"Yeah, okay," the older Winchester said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, here's an idea. Why don't we go _kill_ the sons of bitches that broke into my home?"

"Relax, Dean," Christian said, a trace of amusement under his cool tone. "We got it handled. Djinn are hard to draw out. Now, you been outta the game for a while. Leave it to the professionals."

_Oh, shit. _Big _mistake. Demons should know better than that,_ the voice said. _Even _I _would know better than that._

_For once, we agree._

Dean's jaw clenched and his eyes glinted furiously. "Yeah," he said calmly, showing a surprising amount of self-restraint. "Sure. Tiny suggestion. Ya see, djinn are easier to draw out when you got bait. They want Sam and me. They know where I live. Now, I haven't been hunting in a while, but I'm gonna stick my neck out and guess that's a pretty good place for us to go." Mark and Gwen shared a look, both barely suppressing grins. "See? It's almost like I'm a professional."

Christian fell into an angry silence while the rest of us tried not to laugh. Samuel smirked and gave Dean an appreciative nod. "Nice to see the Campbell humor got passed on," he said.

We finally pulled into Abbeville after what seemed like _ages_. I was actually kind of happy to be back. Despite the thick, annoying, Southern accents, the little town was okay. Plus, I couldn't _wait _to see where Dean and Ella lived.

A few minutes later, Dean said, "Right turn," and we turned down a dirt road with a few driveways branching off. Finally, at the last house, he said, "Pull in here."

The house was totally adorable.

It was small—but not tiny—painted a pretty robin's egg blue color, with a white picket fence and flowerbeds under the windows. The lawn was immaculately cut and shockingly green, and I wondered amusedly if Dean had taken up gardening in his spare time. The only thing that disrupted the illusion of small-town American perfection was Dean's black '67 Chevy Impala parked in the driveway.

It was definitely Ella's style, but I couldn't imagine how Dean must feel about it. Then again, I figured he'd do anything to make Ella happy.

We followed Dean inside, all of us looking around in wonder at the girly feel of the place.

"I'm hopin' your girlfriend did the decorating," Gwen teased, earning a death glare from Dean. She walked over to the coffee table in the living room and picked up a magazine—_People_, maybe—her smirk growing even wider. "Huh, I love this one. Yours or your girlfriend's?"

He ignored her, instead snapping, "Hey!" at Mark as he picked up a photo of the family. "Do me a favor—don't touch that." Mark sat it down and shrugged apologetically.

Sam opened a closet and pulled out a golf bag. "Golf?" he said disbelievingly. "Really?"

"It's a—it's a sport," Dean defended lamely.

"Who would've pegged you as a family man, Deano?" I said with a good-natured smile. I was the only one who didn't receive an evil look. He knew me well enough to totally ignore my teasing.

"Alright, guys," Samuel said, "Set up a perimeter, stake the place out, you know the drill." The three Campbells immediately did as he said and exited the house while the rest of us just stood around uncomfortably. "Am I speakin' some kind of foreign language or something?" he said to us.

I glared at him, crossing my arms defiantly. "Since when d'you tell us what to—?"

"Gari," Sam interrupted sternly. He jerked his head toward the door. "Do what he says."

I rolled my eyes and left the house, admittedly stomping a little to show my frustration. _I just met the guy and already he thinks he can tell me what to do! What the fuck is up with that? And then Sam backs him up! Ugh!_

I stood on the porch for a minute, trying to decide where to go, then caught sight of Mark sitting in a truck in the edge of the woods. I walked over to him and got in the passenger side.

"Where'd you get the truck?" I asked him.

"Johnny's," he replied quietly.

"The dead one?" He nodded. "He was a Campbell, too, right?" Another nod. "I'm sorry. Were you guys close?"

"Not really. Samuel found us. Brought us together."

"That's the most I've heard you say since I met you," I teased. He shrugged. "Kinda nice, though, really. Most people—me included—don't know when to shut up."

"I say enough. Talking is a waste of time."

"I dunno about that. What about when it comes to danger? Or love?"

"You really love someone, you don't have to say it."

I thought about that for a minute. "That was pretty deep. Not just for a hunter, for anyone. I'm impressed."

"Fortune cookie," he told me. "Said something like that."

I laughed. "Of course, I should've known." He gave me a small smile, then reached across to the glove compartment and pulled out a monocular. "So… d'you have a family?" I asked.

He shook his head and looked through the monocular. "They're too loud," he said, frowning deeply. I knew he was keeping something from me, but hey, I barely knew the guy. I couldn't really blame him. It wasn't like we were sharing our life stories or anything.

"Any sign of them?" I asked, trying to break the now-uncomfortable silence.

"Three djinn off in the trees." He handed me the monocular. "Here."

Sure enough, there they were, all three of them gazing longingly at the house. "We better tell the others," I said. "Come on."

Of course, when Mark and I shared our information, a disagreement ensued.

"Those djinn are just sitting out there, watching us," Dean said agitatedly. "Everybody's gotta clear out."

"What?" Christian said, cocking an eyebrow.

"They're not gonna come in here until me and Sam are alone."

"So, what," Samuel said, "I'm supposed to leave you here with no backup?"

Sam broke in, defending his brother's point. "Dean's right. They're smart. They'd wait till they weren't outnumbered."

"Besides, you've been hunting with Sam for a year, right?" I added. "Surely you know he can handle himself."

Samuel narrowed his eyes at me, but still said, "Alright, we won't be far. You call when they come, ya hear?"

Sam nodded. "Gari, go with them," he told me.

"Sam—" I started to protest.

"It isn't gonna work unless it's just me and Dean."

I sighed in resignation. "Alright, fine. Don't die or anything."

"Alright, pack up," Samuel ordered. "We're outta here." He nodded once at the boys, then lead us out of the house.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

After waiting in silence with Mark for about thirty minutes, I saw movement in the neighbors' house. "Did you—?"

"Yeah," Mark interrupted. "C'mon."

He lead me out of our hiding spot and up to the neighbors' front door. He tried the door and found it locked, seemed to debate something for a minute, then kicked the door open. "How badass of you," I teased, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward the slightest bit.

"Careful," he warned, pulling out his knife—silver, dipped in lamb's blood. Disgusting, yes, but it works. "Too late," he said as we came into the living room. The neighbors were lying motionless on the floor, already dead.

"Fuck," I breathed. Just then, I looked out of the window and saw Dean hit the ground in his house. "Dean!" I yelped. "C'mon, Mark, we've gotta help him!"

"Go. I'll stay here, just in case." I nodded and sprinted out the door.

I got there right in time to see Sam stab Dean with a syringe. "What's that?" I asked. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, it's an antidote," he said calmly. "Samuel told us about it. He'll be fine."

I nodded, giving him an odd look. _He doesn't even sound worried. I mean, I know Dean's gonna be okay, but usually he'd sound at least a little worried._ _What's the deal? It's not just this, either. He's just… off. He's not totally Sam anymore. Ah, he _was_ in Hell—of course he's a little different. I'm sure it's nothing._

_Oh, you're sure, huh? _the voice said slyly. I tried not to acknowledge that it said anything. I was afraid that if I did, it wouldn't ever shut up.

But still, I couldn't help the doubt that was flooding my mind.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"So, Samuel and the cuzzes?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother. It was the next morning and Dean had been fully healed. Samuel and the other Campbells had left without so much as a goodbye.

"Dunno," Sam said, shrugging. "They left in a hurry. I'm meeting them back at their place." He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Dean a sideways look. "You, uh… you coming with me?"

"No," Dean said firmly. "No, I'm going back for Ella and the kids."

"I thought you said—"

"I did. I changed my mind."

"Guys, really," I broke in. "If I'm gonna have to be around to witness your little spats, I'd like to know what's going on."

Both of them ignored me, and Sam said, "Look, I practically shoved you at that life."

"That's a funny way to put it, but alright," Dean agreed.

"I'm just saying, I really wanted that for you. And when I told you to go, I—I thought you could have it, y'know?" Sam sighed. "But now I'm not so sure. I mean, you got to consider the fact that you'll be putting them in danger if you go back."

"So, what, it's better to leave them alone, unprotected, and then they're not in danger? I mean, sure, Ella can handle herself, but what about the kids? And now Devon and Jess are in this, too. I got Elle pregnant. I did this to them, and I can't undo that. But what I can do is go with the best option."

"I hear you. I guess I just… wish you were coming, that's all."

"Why?" Dean asked, sounding honestly confused.

"Don't be stupid."

"No, I mean it. I mean, you know plenty of good hunters. I'm rusty. I did something seriously stupid going out there. I almost got us both killed."

"And that's exactly why I want you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You just went," Sam explained. "You didn't hesitate. Because you care, and that's who you are. Me? I wouldn't even think to try."

_Yes, you would. _"Yes, you would," Dean said, echoing my thoughts.

"No, Dean. I'm telling you, it's just better with you around. That's all."

"Listen..." Dean started, holding out a keychain. _For the Impala?_ "She should be hunting. Take her."

"Thanks," Sam said, nodding. "Really. But I already got my car set up how I like it. I should hit the road." Dean's face fell the slightest bit, and I tried to hide how much Sam's refusal shocked me. _What the fuck? _Sam finally turned to me. "You coming?"

"If you really want me around…" I said slowly.

"You know I do," he assured me, smiling warmly. _It still doesn't reach his eyes_, I noted sadly.

"I'll walk you guys out," the older Winchester said, leading us down the front steps. "Keep in touch, ya hear? And I'm talkin' to you, especially, Gari. You put Ella through all that again, we're gonna have a problem."

"Aw, look, now _you're _annoyingly protective of her," I teased. "Don't worry. I won't stay away so long this time." I gave him a brief, one-armed hug and stepped back.

The brothers stared at each other for a second, Dean's eyes full of reluctance to let his brother go again. Sam's eyes were empty. _They always are now. I wonder if Dean's noticed._

"It was really good to see you again, Dean," Sam said, and with that lame-ass parting statement, we left.

**And there you go.**

**I haven't proofread the last few sections of this, but I'll get to it after I've had some sleep. I just wanted to get this posted.**

**Um, I **_**have **_**gone back and added a few things to the previous chapters—nothing major, I was just reading through them to try to gain a little inspiration and decided to add an extra sentence here or there.**

**And if any of you guys would like to share any suggestions on how to get past my aversion to writing Soulless Sam, it would be much appreciated. I'm struggling majorly.**

**Sorry again for the lateness of the update. I'll try to do better, but I'm not making any promises. I don't wanna accidentally break them.**

**Dasvidaniya.**


	5. I'm Addicted As I Want To Be

**Is apologizing really worth it anymore? I mean, I say I'm gonna do better, but I never do. I really hope to, but it's become quite difficult. And yeah, I'm using the same "lack of inspiration" excuse, by the way. Because it is true. And I really am truly sorry for being so awful about updates. I mean, I was pretty great about them with **_**I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away**_**, but I'm doing pretty goddamn awful with this. Again, sorry.**

**I **_**do **_**want to give a shout-out to HeadStuckInTheClouds for her continued support and understanding of my inspirational issue, and for her undying love of my stories. Without her, I'm not sure I would be able to get past Soulless Sam. So, yeah, it kinda goes without saying that she's pretty fucking awesome.**

**Anyway, here's the fifth chapter. I don't own Supernatural, yada, yada, yada. Enjoy!**

_I know I shouldn't complain. I should just be happy to have my Sammy back. That's all that matters. _I sighed and sank down in my seat. _But this fucking _car_…_ I put my feet up on the dash and sighed again.

"Hey, Gari," Sam said, and I glanced over to him. He stared pointedly at my feet and I rolled my eyes, putting them back on the floor.

As he started the car, an annoying beeping noise started. "What the _fuck_—?" I began, but Sam cut me off.

"Seatbelt."

"You're joking, right?" A stern look from him told me that he was definitely _not _joking. "Ugh, this car _sucks. _Couldn't you have gotten some old muscle car or something? Something that _doesn't _have a totally irksome beeper thingy?" Another stern look. I held up my hands defensively. "Alright, sorry, sorry. So what's the case?"

"Missing babies."

"'_Missing babies_?'" I echoed disbelievingly. "What kind of monster kidnaps _babies_?"

"That's what we're going to find out," he replied matter-of-factly.

When I realized that that was all he had to say on the subject, I reached for the radio and cranked up the volume on a Godsmack song, tapping my feet and subconsciously singing along with it. "_I'm not the one who's so far away. When I feel the snake bite enter_—"

Sam reached over and turned off the music, causing me to stop abruptly. "Can't you just sit quietly or something?"

I glared at him reproachfully. "Uh… no. And that never bothered you before, so I don't see why it should now."

"I just don't usually listen to music when I drive."

"Okay… but that means you're gonna have to talk to me," I warned. "You know I'm not very good at occupying myself."

He grumbled to himself for a second, then said, "Okay, fine. What d'you wanna talk about, Garideth?"

_Oooh, full name. I'm really annoying him. And I do not see how._ "Hmmm… There's a lot to cover… What have you been doing this past year? I mean, going solo after a whole life of hunting with a partner. That's kind of a big deal."

"I could say the same for you." I raised my eyebrows expectantly. "I've been hunting," Sam said finally.

"And that's it? Nothing exciting?"

"Hunting _is _kind of exciting, Gari. Never a dull moment."

"Alright, alright, fine, enough with the sarcasm. So, really, all you were doing was hunting?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You?"

"Oh, well, besides mourning your death for a _year_," I said, bitterness and hurt leaking through my careless tone, "I was just hunting, too."

He actually looked over at me this time, a deep frown on his face. "Gari, I said I'm sorry. And I meant it. I shouldn't have left you like that. I should've come back. If I'd known how much I was hurting you, I never would have stayed gone. You _know_ me. You _know_ I'm telling the truth."

He fixed me with his puppy dog eyes, and even though that nagging voice in my head was laughing incredulously, I couldn't help but believe him.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

We pulled up in front of a normal-looking house surrounded by cop cars and roped off by that useless yellow crime scene tape. I grabbed the flyer of the most recent missing child from the backseat and got out of the car, following Sam as he walked up to a detective and instantly started asking questions.

As I reached them, Sam asked, "Where'd you find them?"

"We found the parents upstairs," the detective said solemnly. "Pretty brutal."

"Break in?"

"No, alarm never went off."

"Any leads on the baby?" I piped up.

"None yet," the detective replied.

"So… what d'you think? Think it's okay? Alive?"

The detective sighed, looking utterly defeated. "I did yesterday."

I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly and smiled. "Thank you for your help."

"What was that?" Sam asked me as the detective walked away.

"What was what?" I said confusedly.

"You! Being all… caring. That's not how I remember you."

"Gee, thanks." I shrugged. "I dunno, the guy looked pretty devastated. I mean, _how _many babies have gone missing lately? He just looked like he needed some kindness."

"And _you're_ the one to give it to him?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Don't act so surprised! I've changed a lot over the past year! I've had to." _And you will never know just how much._

He frowned at me for a minute, then said, "I'm gonna go take a look inside. You coming?"

I shook my head. "No, you go ahead. It only takes one of us to check it out. I'd just get in your way." With a roll of his eyes, he ducked under the crime scene tape and entered the house.

I walked back over to the car—a brand spanking new black Dodge Charger, just in case you were wondering—and grabbed my cell phone from the center consol. I scrolled through my contacts and stopped on Ella's name. Just as I was about to hit send, I paused. _What am I gonna do? Whine about how Sam isn't the same anymore? How pathetic _am_ I? I mean, it's not like he's a totally different person; he's still _Sam._ Just a little more stereotypical hunter. _

_A little more John Winchester, you mean, _the voice whispered, then its presence disappeared again. Besides when it laughed mockingly, I hadn't heard from it for a few days. It was almost like Sam being back was keeping it away.

But what he _wasn't _keeping away was the thirst. I had finished out my last flask two days ago, and I was already starting to feel weak. I _hated _feeling weak. I could make it maybe two or three more days before I crashed, and I _really _didn't want that to happen again. The first time had been bad enough.

I was jolted from my thoughts when Sam came out of the house, his cell phone up to his ear. I didn't have to think too hard about who he was talking to. _Samuel. Ugh._

At that moment, I spotted a blue sign sticking out from the bushes in front of the house. I approached Sam and said, "Hey, tell Samuel to check and see if any of the other vics had Harper Caine Security systems." He nodded and relayed the message, then grinned slightly at something Samuel said and hung up. "So…" I began, "how is 'Big Daddy Campbell?' Still a douche?"

Sam gave a short bark of laughter. "How is he a douche?"

"He's judgmental."

"That's kinda normal for a hunter, Gari."

"He's _too _judgmental," I explained. "I mean, you trust me. Samuel trusts you. So why can't that add up to Samuel trusting _me_, too? Just 'cause I'm a 'demon witch' doesn't mean I'm an evil bitch." I paused for a second. "Okay, I _so _did not mean to rhyme there."

"But you _are _a bitch," he contradicted, smirking at me.

"Yes, but not an _evil _one! I'm like Glinda the Good Bitch! I can be trusted!" I protested. "Unless we're talking about _Wicked_… But that's not the point!"

Sam chuckled and said, "You're insane, you know that?"

"Yep, but you love me! So what does that say about _you_?" I shot back, smiling widely.

"Huh. That's a good question."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Samuel had checked the client records for Harper Caine Security and we were now on the way to another house with a six-month-old baby. _I just hope we get there in time…_

We pulled up in front of the house a few hours after dark. After getting a few weapons from the trunk, Sam led me up to the front door, which, of course, was locked. He huffed in annoyance and reached for his pocket, presumably to get his lock-picking kit, but I stopped him.

"Stand aside," I ordered cockily and I pretended to crack my knuckles. He reluctantly did as I said and stepped back. I flicked my wrist at the doorknob and the door swung open instantly. "See? Isn't that much easier?" I smirked.

"How'd you do that?" he asked bewilderedly.

"I've been practicing!"

"So what else can you do?"

"Is now really the time? We've got a family to save." I walked into the house and he followed behind me, him raising his gun and me pulling my trusty old dagger from my boot. We entered the living room and found the parents dead and bloody on the floor. "And we're too late," I said dejectedly.

A small thud sounded and we both froze. Sam put a finger to his lips and crept toward the closet. I moved closer, tightening my grip on the dagger and preparing myself for an attack. He opened the closet and… nothing. Nothing but a normal closet filled with normal closet things.

"That was anticlimactic," I commented, and both of us relaxed.

Sam smirked and said, "Don't you have some kind of power that'll let you scan closets for monsters?"

"If so, I haven't discovered it yet. But it _would _be helpful, no?"

At that moment, a man ran out of another room and bowled me over. I let out a yelp and slashed at him with my dagger. He jumped back with a cry and clapped his arm over the sizzling skin. _Sizzling? Well, _that_ narrows it down._ The man busted through a window and took off running across the lawn and into the woods surrounding the house.

Sam helped me to my feet and asked, "You okay?"

"You could've _shot_ him, y'know!" I snapped.

"Hey, I froze! I panicked!"

"_You _panicked? _You_? Since when do _you _panic? _Or_ freeze?"

"I know," he said calmly. "I know. Just… I'm not used to working with a partner anymore. Or looking out for anyone but myself. I just saw you there and I froze. I'm sorry." He stared at me pleadingly, but again, I noticed his eyes were empty.

_That's bullshit. _This time, it wasn't the voice that was being negative and suspicious, it was me. _Sam would _not_ freeze or panic, _especially_ if it meant letting a monster attack me _and _get away! The list of differences just keeps getting longer and longer._

"Alright," I said finally, just to get him to stop looking at me with those eyes. "I forgive you."

"Thanks," he said, giving me a small grin. "So what's your dagger made of, anyway? Never came up before, but it's kinda important now."

"It's a mixture of silver and iron."

"Multi-purpose, huh? Nice, but that doesn't really help us much." I nodded my agreement. "If it was one or the other, that would help, but… Iron hurts spirits and demons, among other—"

"It wasn't either of those," I interrupted. "It felt too… _solid _to be a spirit. Too corporeal." Something about the word made Sam smirk, but I couldn't imagine why.

"What about a demon?"

"It wasn't a demon."

"How d'you know?"

_Because I would have smelled him. _"I just know," I said flatly.

"Okay… well, then, silver. We got ghouls, zombies, shifters—"

"And the list goes on and on, I know," I finished. "So… more research."

"Yeah, c'mon, let's go." Sam turned towards the door.

"Hey, Sam?" I said, raising my eyebrows. "Aren't we forgetting to look for the baby? It certainly wasn't with the monster when he tackled me."

He stopped abruptly, the biggest "duh" expression on his face that I'd ever seen. "Yeah, that'd probably be smart."

"Alright, well, the thing came from in here, so let's check in here," I suggested, leading the way into the next room.

Everything was quiet and seemed pretty normal. _Like the closet._ Just when we were about to give up, a rustling sound came from the corner of the room, next to a changing table. Sam was closest, so he got there first. He lifted the blanket covering the side slowly, and his eyes widened.

"Um…"

I walked over and stared down at our discovery. "Ohhh, no," I said, shaking my head adamantly, "I don't do babysitting."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Sam, this is totally insane!" I exclaimed as we sped away from the house, the baby cradled awkwardly in my arms. "What the _fuck_ are we gonna do with a _baby_?"

"I don't know, Gari!" Sam snapped. "Just let me think!"

Thankfully, the baby was asleep, so at least we didn't have _that _to worry about. I stayed silent, trying to "let Sam think."

"Alright, okay, got it," he said, seeming to have made a decision. He turned left at a traffic light and pulled into a motel parking lot. "Okay, get out."

"Wait, what?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.

"Get out. Go get us a room. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But where are you going?" I shifted the baby so I could get out of the car without waking it.

"To get help."

"What d'you—You're not gonna bring Dean into this, are you?"

"Give me the baby. I'm gonna get a car seat for it, don't worry."

"_Him_," I corrected as I handed over the baby. "And you _cannot _go get Dean!"

"I'll be back soon," he continued, still ignoring me. "Promise."

"Sam!"

"Shut your door."

"Sam, you can't—!" He reached across the consol and slammed my door, then drove off, leaving me standing alone in the parking lot.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. _Guess I better get a room, then._ I walked into the lobby and stopped at the front desk. "Can I help you?" the man asked, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Yeah, um, I need…two rooms, I guess," I said.

"You guess?"

"Just gimme two rooms, please."

The man shook his head and looked up, holding his hand out for my credit card. I passed it over to him, trying to remember what name I had on this one. "Alright, Miss Crock. Here are your keys."

_Ha, I forgot about that. _I took the card and the keys, then stared down at the card. _Artemis Crock. Wow, I am such a child. I'm taking aliases from cartoons now._ I shrugged to myself. _At least she's totally badass._

"Thanks," I said. I started walking toward our rooms, then stopped in my tracks. I subconsciously reached for the flask in my pocket, knowing it was empty. I bit my lip hesitantly, warring thoughts spinning through my head.

_You need it_, the voice whispered. _You know you do. I'll start coming back more and more and interrupting your Sam time._

_Well, with that logic, how can I say no? _I thought sarcastically, but I was already heading down the sidewalk into town. I walked into a small bar—the social hub of a town this tiny, of course—and was immediately hit with the scent of demons. _Were they always around before and I just didn't know, or are they still following me and just taking the night off?_

I shook my head and took a seat at the bar, right where the scent was strongest. When the bartender turned around with a cocky grin, I tried my hardest not to flinch. "Well, hi there, beautiful," he said, giving me a wink.

_Okay, okay, just ignore the hideous, rotting face and flirt your ass off._ "Hello yourself, hot stuff," I replied, propping up on the counter.

"What can I get ya, doll?"

"Give me the strongest thing you've got, and then get one for yourself," I said with a flirty grin. My eyes scanned his uniform for a nametag, then I said, "Jake, is it?"

"Yep, and you are?"

"Artemis," I replied, continuing on with my credit card name.

"Goddess of the Hunt?"

"_Very _good, Jake. That just earned you brownie points!" I teased.

"So, now that we're acquainted… what d'you say we get outta here? My break's in five minutes," Jake said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be waiting."

Five minutes later, Jake the demon came around the bar and said, "Follow me." I did as he said, secretly slipping my dagger out of my boot as he led me down a dark alley.

"So… where are we going?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"Right here, if that's okay," he said, turning to face me and stepping closer.

"Fine by me," I growled, slashing my dagger at his chest.

He leapt back in alarm. "_You_," he hissed. "You're _her,_ aren't you? The demon witch?"

"I'm getting _really_ tired of that goddamn nickname," I huffed. "But yes, that would be me."

"I'm honored," Jake the demon said sarcastically.

"I'm sure. Now shut up and let me drink your blood!" I lunged at him and we both tumbled to the ground. I sliced into his neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, taking just enough blood for me to regain some energy. "Y'know, the only bad thing about me draining you dry is that your vessel was actually pretty cute," I said casually. "Well, at least I _think_ he was… Can't be too sure when I'm seeing _your_ disgusting face on top of it."

He didn't reply—couldn't reply, due to the fact that I was pressing down very hard on his throat, both with my dagger and my free hand. He just made an angry gurgling sound.

"Alright, now to restock my supplies."

After both of my flasks were filled, I turned back to the demon, who hadn't moved the entire time and was now mumbling incoherently. I leaned over his neck once again and drank until the blood stopped pouring. It started taking effect and shivers rushed over my spine. I leaned my head back and let out a breathy sigh as all the nerves in my body began tingling with power.

"Thanks for your cooperation," I whispered to the body as I stood up. I dragged it over to one of those gigantic garbage can things and hoisted it inside, then placed my hand on the side of the container. I felt the metal heat up under my hand, then the contents burst into flames. "There, funeral fit for a king," I said quietly, smirking to myself.

I strutted out of the alley—yes, I will admit that I strutted—and down the sidewalk, feeling like I could take on the world. I had two flasks of demon blood in my pockets and a totally quenched thirst, at least for the time being. _Yeah, life is good._

_Oh, _God_, I need help._

**Yes, I ended it badly. Well, duh! Gari's hooked on demon blood! I had to insert a scene in there somewhere! (Oh, and by the way, that scene was the easy part. As long as I don't have to write Soulless Sam, I have no problem.)**

**Oh, I am going to the beach all next week and **_**promise **_**to use some of my free time to write some more, but I won't have my laptop down there, so I won't be able to update. But I will update as soon as I get back from the beach!**

**Anyway, you know the drill by now! Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	6. I Wonder Who Would Ever Not Believe You

**Okay, **_**not **_**one of my favorite chapters, and I think that may be because I rushed to finish it. I'm gonna be at the beach all next week and I wanted to give you guys another chapter to make up for my crappy updating of late. I swear on the River Styx **_**and **_**on the precious that I **_**will **_**be writing some of the next chapter at the beach, and like I said before, I'll post it as soon as I can!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

I was lounging on the bed in one of our rooms and blaring Lita Ford when someone knocked on the door. "Who is it?" I sang happily, sliding off of the bed and dancing to the door.

"Gari, hurry up and open the door!"

"Slow your roll, Sammy," I said lazily, letting both brothers in. "Hi there, Deano. How's it going?"

"Hey, Gari…" Dean said, giving me an odd look. "You feelin' okay?"

"I'm feeling _great_," I replied with an easy grin. I noticed the baby in his arms and instantly got serious. "So… what are we gonna do about _him_?"

"Bobby John," he said almost automatically.

"Um… what?"

"His name is Bobby John." I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "Don't ask. Here. Hold him for a second."

"You _do _realize that his initials are—"

"Shut up and take the baby, Gari," Dean huffed, and I laughed and did as he said.

"You are gonna be one kinky son of a bitch when you grow up," I told the baby, and his cherubic face broke into a wide, toothless grin. "Yeah, _you_ think I'm funny, don't you?"

"Look out," Dean warned. I looked up to see him carrying a folded up crib towards me.

"So _that's_ what took you guys so long?" I asked. "Getting baby supplies?"

"_And _we ran into a shifter grandma who tried to capture little BJ here," he added. After a slight pause, he sighed in annoyance. "Okay, you're right, his name wasn't well thought-out! But, hey! We panicked! I said, 'Bobby' and Sam said, 'John,' so I just went with it!"

"You poor thing!" I said to Bobby John. "High school is gonna be Hell for you!"

"Gari, stop talking to the baby," Sam said exasperatedly. "Hey, didn't the shifter grandma say something about him needing a diaper change?"

I shoved the baby into Dean's arms and stepped back warily. "I'm out!" I announced.

"Hey!" Dean yelped. "You're the girl! Shouldn't you be good at this?"

"Are you _really _bringing up the Battle of the Sexes thing with me again?" I growled. "Didn't you learn your lesson the _first _time?"

"Alright, alright, fine! I'm sorry!"

I thought for a minute. "Hmmm… How about we play 'Rock, Paper, Scissors—'"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"'—Lizard, Spock?'" I continued, as if the two had never spoken.

The boys shared a confused look, then simultaneously said, "What the hell?"

"It's very simple," I said excitedly, preparing to do the hand motions. "Scissors cuts paper, paper covers rock. Rock crushes lizard, lizard poisons Spock. Spock smashes scissors, scissors decapitates lizard. Lizard eats paper, paper disproves Spock. Spock vaporizes rock, and, as it always has, rock crushes scissors!"

"Uh… Could you go over that again?" Dean asked slowly, and Sam nodded in agreement, his mouth gaping open.

"Just try it! Ready?" They nodded vaguely and I grinned. "Alright, let's go! 'Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard Spock!'" At the end of the round, I had drawn Spock—I always did—Dean had drawn scissors, and Sam had drawn rock. "I win! Now you two can battle it out on your own!"

The brothers stared at me for a minute, awe and confusion etched on their faces.

"The regular way?" Sam asked quietly.

"The regular way," Dean confirmed.

"You guys are no fun," I grumbled.

After the totally boring regular way, Dean ended up being the one changing Bobby John's diaper. He went with scissors again and Sam went with rock. "Always with the scissors, Dean," Sam teased his older brother.

"Shut up!" Dean snapped as he laid the baby on the bed. He looked down at the baby, who stared back up at him innocently, but the moment Dean started trying to change his diaper, he went crazy. "Okay, alright, you know what? I'll pay you money if you sit still." Sam and I laughed, much to Dean's annoyance. "This is like defusing an IED with poop! Okay, alright, alright, alright, you are _golden_, Bobby John. Time to hit the hay." Dean picked up Bobby John and held him close, then started softly humming "Smoke on the Water" as he walked over to the now-unfolded crib.

"Dean, you're just gonna make it cranky again," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Actually," I began, "music is supposed to—"

"Shhh, it's working," Dean interrupted, and he was right. Bobby John's eyes were drifting closed and his grip on Dean's shirt was loosening. "Okay, if I put you down, you gonna be a man about it?" Dean asked, then he cautiously lowered the baby into the crib.

"Huh," Sam said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"You're just, uh, actually, not awful at that."

Dean laughed. "Dude, I'm barely keeping that thing alive."

"No, no, no, seriously," Sam said eagerly. "You've got a whole Dr. Huxtable vibe coming off of you. You're like... father material."

"Yeah, well, I kind of had to be lately, you know. Sink or swim, right?"

I broke in at that moment, foreseeing a private Winchester brother conversation. "Uh, I'm gonna go outside. Get some fresh air." Sam nodded and I left the room.

_I can't believe they caught me like that! I haven't been that wacko since my first few hits! I've really been overindulging… Thankfully, seeing the baby knocked some sense into me!_

I walked over to a soda machine and inserted some change, smiling when a Dr. Pepper can came crashing out of the machine. I popped open the top and took a long swig, sighing happily after I swallowed. _Man, I haven't had one of these in _years_! I forgot how awesome they are!_

I leaned against the drink machine and quietly sipped my Dr. Pepper until Sam came out of the room. "Where are _you_ headed?" I asked.

"Got a lead," he replied. "Wanna come?"

"Nah, I think I'm gonna catch up with Dean and drink about ten more sodas. Hey, you don't happen to have any ones, do you?"

He tossed me his wallet, then headed for his car. I waved halfheartedly as he drove away. I started to head into our room, but stopped and bought two more Dr. Peppers.

"You want one?" I offered Dean as I sat down beside him on the bed. "Sammy's paying!" I said persuasively, shaking one of the cans in front of his face.

He chuckled and took the soda, but didn't open it. "So how've you been, Gari?" he asked, staring down at the soda can.

"Amazing, now that Sam's back," I told him, trying to sound sincere. If he didn't notice anything wrong with his brother,_ I_ certainly wasn't going to point it out—at least not until I could tell that it was something that I _wasn't _just imagining. "What about you, Deano?"

"Doing… really good, actually," he admitted, the corners of his full lips turning upward the slightest bit. "The kids are great, Ella's great, everything is just… great. I didn't think I could have it this good." Something in his tone didn't sound as happy as it should.

"Then what's wrong?" I prompted.

He looked up at me, fixing me with those piercing green eyes, and for a moment, I really thought he was going to confide in me.

Then the normal Dean took over and he shook his head, saying, "My number one rule: no chick flick moments."

"I thought your number one rule was, 'Driver picks the music.' At least, that's what Sam told me."

"Okay, fine," Dean amended, "'No chick flick moments' is my second rule."

"Just drink your soda, you emotionally challenged man, you!" I teased, and he cracked a smile and opened the drink.

About a half an hour later, after we had both drank at least six Dr. Peppers apiece—damn, those things are addictive—Dean was enjoying the motel bed's "Magic Fingers" mattress—which I found very disturbing—and I was standing over Bobby John's crib, trying to get him to quiet down. He wasn't sobbing yet, but he was squirming, and I could sense the waterworks were coming soon.

Dean made an odd, pleased noise and I shuddered. "Okay, you're just… really disturbing," I told him, crinkling my nose in disgust.

"And you're just really annoying," he muttered, sounding half asleep.

I rolled my eyes and looked down at Bobby John, feeling the slightest bit of affection towards the baby. "Y'know, he's kinda cute when he's not crying. Or in need of a diaper change."

The words had barely left my mouth when I heard a loud popping sound and Bobby John exploded, shooting bloody skin goo all over the nearby wall and, unfortunately, my face.

"_Dean_!" I shrieked, and in a flash he was there beside me, staring down at the now-black baby.

"What the hell—?" Just then, his phone rang. "Could you make him stop crying?" he asked me.

"I… I think I'm gonna be sick," I choked out, ignoring his question, and I made it to the bathroom just in time.

(Okay, let's get one thing straight: I'm not a really queasy person. I mean, you can't be when you're a hunter. But if _you_ were to get a face full of bloody skin goo shot at you from an _exploding_ _baby_, don't you think you'd be a little nauseous, too?)

I flushed the vomit down the toilet and hurriedly went to the sink to wash my face. _Oh, God, it's in my hair! It's on my shirt!_ Bile rose in my throat again, but I held it back. _Just take a shower. Do _not _puke again._

"Dean!" I called. "I'm, uh—I'm gonna take a shower and try not to throw up again. Can you handle the exploding shifter baby on your own?" I took his silence as a yes and got into the shower, clothes and all. I had to get the goo off of me somehow.

Right as I was finishing up, I heard a gunshot. I hurriedly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body, kicking my discarded clothes out of the way as I rushed to the bathroom door.

"What happened?" I asked as I saw a dead police officer, Dean holding the newly revamped Bobby John, and Sam pointing a gun down at the dead man.

"Shifter," Sam said flatly. "Now put some clothes on. We gotta go."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Y'know, it's pretty smart, actually," Sam said as we rode down the dark highway. "I mean, shifter poses as a guard for the security company to get near the house. Then it scopes out the fam."

"Yeah, and then daddy takes off, and shifter becomes daddy," Dean added. "A few glasses of wine, shakes mama's trees, comes back in nine months to collect its prize."

"I didn't even know they _had_ babies. I thought they were just freaks of nature, like X-Men style." I laughed lightly at Sam's simile and the baby beside me started giggling.

"You learn something new every day, huh?" Dean said.

"I've never seen a baby monster before," Sam said pensively.

"It's not really a monster, Sam," I contradicted. "At least… not yet."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "I mean, it's still just a baby. It's not its fault its dad's a shifter."

Sam frowned. "Right… but it's a shifter, too."

"Still doesn't change the fact that we've got to look after this thing," Dean argued. "I mean, what the hell are we going to do with it? We can't actually drop it off at an orphanage. They might get upset when it turns Asian!" Bobby John giggled again and I couldn't help but smile. He was just too cute! _Okay, getting soft, Gari. Stop it!_

"Samuel," the younger Winchester said suddenly.

"No!" I said automatically.

"What?" Dean asked, looking displeased at being out of the loop.

"Samuel," Sam clarified. "He'll know what to do."

"You want to bring it to a bunch of _hunters_?"

"Not just hunters, Dean. They're our family."

"We don't know them."

"_I_ do. Not every hunter is a head case. I mean, Samuel is actually a lot like you." _Uh, no. I find that _very _difficult to believe._

"I'm a freaking head case!" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, pitch a better idea then." Dean and I both stayed quiet, neither of us being able to come up with an alternative. "Great! Samuel, it is." _This is gonna end badly…_

A few hours later, we pulled up in front of a gate outside of the Campbells' compound. Two hunters opened the gate and allowed us to drive through, all the while giving us suspicious and menacing glares.

We walked into the main building of the compound, Dean holding Bobby John protectively as if he were trying to shield the baby from the others, and Sam headed into a back room, presumably looking for Samuel. I stood close beside Dean, ready to jump in if any of these hunters tried to take the tiny shifter.

Gwen walked up to Dean and poked Bobby John's stomach playfully. "Well aren't you just the best disguise a monster ever wore?" she cooed with a smile. Then, at the look both Dean and I gave her, she quickly said, "I'm kidding, guys. Relax."

Mark walked up to us and simply stared at the baby. Dean narrowed his eyes and snapped, "What, you got something to say?" Mark smirked. "No? Alright, well, you stand there and _think_ at me." I gave Mark a small nod of acknowledgement and he returned it with a half-smile. He was probably the only one of Samuel's group that I trusted.

Just then, Sam and Samuel entered the room, Sam asking, "So, what's our next move?"

"I got a couple of ideas," Samuel said as he approached us. "Dean, let me see the little guy."

I instinctively moved closer to Dean as he said, "That's alright, I got him."

"What do you think I'm gonna do?"

Dean grinned slightly. "You _really_ don't want me to answer that question."

"Well, I'm curious," a voice said from the back of the room, and shivers of revulsion ran over my spine. _Christian. _"Who exactly d'you think we are?"

"Hunters," Dean said simply.

"Funny, here I've been thinking we're family."

"Hey, let's not get worked up," Sam broke in, trying to keep the peace. The thought was strangely amusing to me.

"Yeah, yeah, let's not," Christian agreed with a twisted smirk.

"Here, Dean, it's fine," Sam said. "Let me take him. It's okay."

"Wait—" I tried to say, but Sam had already passed Bobby John to Samuel. _Shit._

"Hey, there," Samuel said to the baby, smiling down at him. I may have just been imagining it, but I thought Bobby John looked kind of scared. "You're a big fella, aren't ya?" He looked up at Dean. "Yeah, I haven't held one of these in a long time. Your mom was the tiniest. She was as bald as a cue ball."

Dean glowered at the older man, then said, "Alright, so what the hell are we gonna do with him?"

"Raise him," Samuel said simply.

"'Raise him?'" I echoed disbelievingly.

"What, you got another suggestion?" he asked, glaring at me like he wished nothing more than to shoot a bullet into my skull. _The feeling's mutual, buddy._

"But..." Dean trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"It's dangerous out there for him, Dean."

"And what about in here?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"What are we gonna do—study him? Poke at him?" Dean added, continuing my thought process.

"Your mind goes straight to torture, Dean," Christian piped up, his voice full of contempt. "Don't assume that for everyone."

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Dean asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Sorry, I heard about what you majored in down in the Pit." _Sam _told _him?_

Incredulity and hurt flashed in Dean's eyes. "The hell is your problem, man?" he snapped.

"You're starting to become a pain in my ass."

At that moment, Sam stepped in. "Christian, take it easy, man. He's my brother." _Funny way of showing it, Sammy._

"We all done bristling up here, or what?" Samuel sighed. "Nobody's doing anything to him, Dean. When he's old enough, we throw it to him. He wants to volunteer to help out, that's fine."

"Could be great." Mark said quietly.

"Oh, man, not you, too!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in defeat. "_How_? _How _could that be great, Mark?"

"Think of the kind of hunter he'll grow up to be."

Dean let out a short, angry bark of laughter. "You all are joking, right? I mean, come on! You can't 'Angelina Jolie' a shapeshifter! Give me the baby."

Samuel took a step back. "Why can't you give me an inch of trust, Dean?"

It seemed that _that _had been the million dollar question. "_Maybe_ because you two are suddenly back from the dead, and Gari and I seem to be the only ones who want to know how the hell that happened!"

"You're not the only one who wants to know," Sam said calmly, completely unaffected by his brother's outburst.

Dean shook his head in exasperation. "There's just a little too much mystery with this family for me to get comfy."

"Then don't!" Samuel said, sounding annoyed. "But don't put it on us. All we're trying to do is invite you in." He turned to his other relatives and looked at the one he couldn't trust. "Christian?"

"Yeah?" the demon said.

"You and Arlene, still no luck on the baby front?" _Where is this going…?_

"Not yet, no."

"But you want one?" _Oh, God, he _can't _be serious!_

Christian seemed to suddenly realize what Big Daddy Campbell was getting at. "Yeah… we do."

"Wait, hold on!" Dean objected.

"It's okay, Dean," Samuel said. "It's alright." _The hell it is!_ Samuel handed Bobby John to Christian and said, "Congrats. It's a boy! …Sometimes."

Christian laughed and I tried not to shudder. "The crap I do for this family."

"You're kidding me, right?" Dean said, eyes wide in shock.

"Yeah, you've _got _to be joking!" I added.

"Go to hell," Christian said casually, playing with Bobby John's fingers.

"Well, you have no business raising… _anything_!" Dean continued.

"Why, Dean?" Sam asked. "Because he's a hunter?" _No, because he's a fucking _demon_!_

Suddenly, dogs started barking outside and we all froze. Samuel was the first to snap out of it. "Check the back door," he ordered. Christian handed Bobby John back to Samuel, and Samuel passed him on to Dean. "Downstairs, panic room. He'll be safe there. Go." They looked as if they were about to object, but he insisted. "Forget it, go! Now!"

"Gari, come on!" Dean commanded.

"No, I'm gonna stay and fight," I said. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Now, go!" He nodded once and followed Sam out of the room. _Nice to see _someone's _worried about me,_ I thought bitterly.

"Need a gun?" Gwen asked me, holding out a pistol. I took it from her and cocked it back, then we all aimed for the door.

With a loud thud, it was kicked down, and in walked Samuel. _No… Shifter Samuel. Real Samuel is right here. Right? _Shifter Samuel smirked. "You have something of ours. I know he's here. I can feel him."

Gwen shot the shifter in the back twice with a shotgun, but nothing happened. I shot him straight in the head, but it had no effect except making him angry. He strode towards Gwen and me, and right before he reached us, Mark jumped in front of us and stabbed him right in the heart. The shifter grinned and grabbed Mark by the neck, lifting him off of his feet. Real Samuel shot Shifter Samuel in the back with some kind of tranquilizer, which only made him angrier.

Mark's eyes widened as he saw what was coming. "Run!" he gasped, then the shifter snapped his neck.

"_No_!" I cried. "Mark!"

The shifter's grin widened as he reached out and grabbed Gwen by the neck, preparing to do the same to her. I lunged at him with my dagger, but he swung his arm at me and knocked me into the wall. My head collided with a sickening noise and everything went black.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Gari," someone said, shaking me gently. "Gari, wake up."

I opened my eyes to see Dean staring down at me worriedly. I groaned and sat up slowly, rubbing the back of my head. "Did he get away?" I asked groggily.

Dean frowned. "Yeah, he did. And he got Bobby John, too."

He helped me to my feet and we walked over to the others just in time to hear Samuel say, "Well, I'm pretty sure it's not a myth now."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"What the hell was that thing?" Dean asked.

"We think it may have been an Alpha," Samuel explained.

"Like… the very first shifter? Ever? The one who spawned all of the others?" I questioned, and Sam nodded.

Dean turned to me. "Wait, how do you know all this?"

"There's tons of lore about it." I shrugged. "Every monster's gotta start somewhere."

"And that's why it was so strong, and why nothing we had stopped it," Sam added.

"And he said that he could find the baby anywhere," Samuel said. "That he could feel it, like there's a connection. That's in the lore, too."

Dean cocked an eyebrow curiously. "What the hell does it want with babies, anyway?"

"A softball team? I got no clue."

"What if it's making an army or something?" I said quietly, mainly to myself, but the others heard me and temporarily fell silent.

Of course, Dean was the one to break it. "Great, well, then, how do we kill it?"

Samuel shook his head. "I don't know if we can."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Y'know, it's funny," Dean started as we walked out of the compound.

"What's that?" Sam asked absentmindedly.

"Y'know, just before you ganked that shifter in the motel, he mentioned a father, which makes sense now because he meant the Alpha." _I guess I was in the shower for that part._

"Huh. Yeah, I guess so."

"Did you hear him say that?" I sighed, sensing an argument, and slowed so that I was walking behind the brothers.

Sam shrugged. "Uh, I don't know. Kind of a hot moment, y'know? Why?"

"Well, because if you heard him, then you knew the Alpha was out there."

"Okay…"

"And if you knew the Alpha was out there, then you knew he might come after the baby," Dean said slowly, waiting to see if his brother would catch on. Sam didn't seem to, but I certainly did. "In which case, you were using the baby as bait. So was that the plan? To use the baby as bait?" _Oh, shit. I didn't think about that. _

Sam chuckled at his brother's suspicious nature. "Of course not. Dean, I just thought that Samuel's was the safest place. That's all."

"Right, of course. So, uh, take me back to my car and I guess I'll see you guys later?"

"You're not coming with us?" I asked, mildly surprised.

"No, I'm gonna go back to Ella. I'm sure she's worried, and me being the person I am, I'm worried about her, so…" He shrugged embarrassedly.

"Tell her I love her, will you?" I said with a smile.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Y'know, you could tell her yourself. Stop by and see us. She misses you."

"I'll try my best," I promised. He shook his head, knowing I was lying, but he didn't say anything.

Without another word, we got into Sam's car and drove off.

**Aaand that's it!**

**Now, I will read over this for errors when I get back, but right now I really need to go to sleep! I have to get up early in the morning to travel!**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	7. Why Do I Love You?

**Yes, dear readers, I got back from the beach a week ago and just now got around to updating this. Yes, I am deeply sorry. Yes, I got my laptop taken for smarting off to my mother. And yes, that is why this has taken me so long.**

**So… In this chapter, you get to see how badly Gari is deluding herself into thinking that everything is okay with Sam, and you also get to see a side of her you have never seen before and will probably never see again. So enjoy it while you can!**

"Hey, uh, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I've, uh, I've got a question for you," I said hesitantly, not really sure if what I was about to ask was the greatest idea.

"Okay, shoot."

I situated myself in the passenger seat of his stupid car to where I could face him completely. _I need to see his eyes when he answers. That's the only way I'll know if he's lying._ "Do… do you remember it?" I asked slowly, then realized I should probably clarify what I was talking about. "The—the Cage, I mean?"

He stared straight ahead at the road, seeming to think very hard about his answer. "Yeah," he admitted finally. "Yeah, I do."

"And?" I prompted.

"_And_?"

"What was it like?"

Sam let out a short bark of laughter and took his eyes off the road to stare at me incredulously. "You're joking, right?"

"I wouldn't joke about this, Sam. I really wanna know."

"I'm not gonna _tell _you!" he exclaimed, his voice rising the slightest bit in surprise. "I'm not just gonna sit here and talk to you about my time in Hell!"

"Well, why not?" I asked, crossing my arms stubbornly. "If not me, then _who_?"

He gaped at me, opening and closing his mouth in disbelief. _This has to be the most emotion he's shown since he got back._ "_No one_!" he managed to say. "It's not something that I'd really like to share!"

"You used to be all for talking it out," I mumbled, sinking down in my seat. "You used to be so easy to read. I never had to guess what you were thinking because I just _knew_." I sighed wistfully, thinking of how he used to be. "You're not like that anymore. It's like you're wearing a mask, like you're hiding Sam under there somewhere."

"I went to _Hell_, Gari!" Sam huffed exasperatedly. "Did you _really _expect me to be the same?"

"No!" I replied fiercely. "Not the same—just not so fucking _different_!"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but we can't all live up to your high expectations. Sooner you realize that, the happier you'll be." With that, he stared back at the road, still shaking his head in disbelief.

"I don't have 'high expectations!'" I protested, furiously air-quoting his words. "Did I _want _you to be the exact same person you were before you went to Hell? No _shit_, Sherlock! But did I _expect _it? _No_! You were trapped in the Cage with _Michael _and _Lucifer_, Sam! And I _know _they took their rage and boredom out on you! So maybe I was expecting _more _of a change," I concluded. "Maybe I expected you to be falling apart and losing your mind, for you to actually need me a little. But instead, I got douchey, emotionless Sam. And I don't like him at all. I just want _my _Sam back."

"I'm sorry, Gari," he said after a while. "I'm sure your Sam's still in here somewhere, but 'douchey, emotionless Sam' has kinda had to take over this past year, and he's kept me alive so far. I'm not getting rid of him any time soon. So I guess what I'm trying to say is… take it or leave it."

I bit my lip as an awkward silence fell over us. Any attempts I made to argue would be futile. And judging by the faint look of triumph on Sam's face, both of us knew that he had won this fight.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I raised my hand to knock on Sam's door, then chickened out and dropped it to my side. I'd been doing the same thing for about five minutes, trying to get up the nerve to do what should have been done the moment I stepped out of line with him. _This is stupid_, I thought, feeling very annoyed. Not only was I too afraid to apologize to Sam, but I couldn't help but feel that I had caused all of this, that I was the only one at fault.

In some small corner of my mind, the voice was laughing at my pathetic dilemma. At the time, I was glad that it was leaving me alone. But maybe if it had spoken up, it would have stopped me from making a huge mistake.

As I raised my hand again, I couldn't help but complain in my head. _I know we're fighting, but did he _really _have to get separate rooms? I've barely spent any time alone with him since he's been back, and now we can't even sleep in the same _bed_?_

Of course, I chickened out again, dropping my hand with a sigh. _I really should apologize. I'm the one who freaked out. And he's right—of _course _he had to change. If he didn't, he'd probably be some psycho lunatic locked up in a padded cell. This new Sam… this is just a coping mechanism. And I was too busy selfishly wanting after the old Sam to realize that. My _God_, I'm a bitch._

I swallowed deeply, steeling myself for the amount of groveling I would have to do to earn his forgiveness. Then, before I had the chance to wimp out again, I tapped lightly on the door and called, "Sam?"

A few seconds later, he opened it, staring at me expectantly. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?" He stepped aside without a word and I walked into his room, staring around in wonder at how orderly it was. _It's fucking neat-freak material! What hunter is _this _organized?_

"What d'you want, Gari?" Sam asked finally. "You gonna yell at me some more about how 'douchey' and 'emotionless' I am?"

I stared down at my hands and twisted them around awkwardly as a huge wave of guilt washed over me. "No, I… I wanted to apologize," I said quietly.

"_Really_?" He cocked an eyebrow curiously, then crossed his arms and said, "Huh. Okay, I'm listening."

"I get it," I began slowly. "Why you've changed, I mean."

"Oh, you _do_, huh?"

"Can you _not _patronize me when I'm trying to apologize to you?" I snapped irritably, then immediately bit my lip, cursing my temper. "That's… not really helping with the apology, is it?" I said sheepishly.

"Not so much," he agreed with an infuriating little smirk. "But, please. Continue."

I knew he was mocking me, but I tried to ignore that in favor of getting my apology out and making up with him. I needed to say that I was sorry, and he needed to know that I was doing my best to understand what he was going through.

"You've changed because you're trying to deal with what happened to you. You could've ended up in a nuthouse, being haunted by all of those bad memories, but instead you've just cut off your emotions to cope. And I was a total bitch for not realizing that sooner. I'd rather have you like this than have you wasting away in an asylum. So, I'm sorry for saying all of those things, namely for calling you 'douchey' and 'emotionless,' and I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure out that I should just be grateful that I have you at all." I took a deep breath as I finished and shrugged hopefully. "So… do you forgive me?"

He stared at me for a minute, his face betraying no emotion—something I was going to have to get used to—then he sighed in defeat. "Yeah, I forgive you."

I exhaled slowly, relieved that I no longer had to worry about him being mad at me. We'd been apart for _so long_, and I couldn't bear to spend our time together fighting. _We should be doing _other _things…_

At that thought, a sly grin spread across my face and I looked up at Sam from under my eyelashes with seductive, pleading eyes.

He sighed again and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, not even knowing what that simple action did to me. "What d'you want _now_, Gari?" he asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

I stepped closer to him, feeling unusually bold, and pushed his chest with both hands, my powers giving me the strength I needed to cause him to fall back onto his bed. He stared up at me, his eyes widening slightly, then he grinned—that amazingly sexy, tempting half-grin that always drove me wild—when I straddled his lap. I kissed him briefly, then pulled back with a half-grin of my own.

"I want _you_," I breathed, splaying my fingers across his broad shoulders and going in for another kiss.

"You should've just led with this," he mumbled against my lips, his hands rising up to twine in my hair. It felt different now, and I guessed it was because of how much shorter my hair was. _No, something about it just doesn't feel right. Of _course, I ignored that feeling, figuring I could puzzle over it later.

"Shut up," I growled teasingly, and he gave a deep, throaty chuckle that I could feel rumbling in his chest. "Sam, I—"

He interrupted me by fiercely pressing his lips to mine and forcing his tongue inside of my mouth. At that point, all thoughts were wiped from my mind and I decided to let my body do the talking.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I stretched my arm out to Sam's side of the bed, expecting to graze across his warm, muscular chest, but found that he wasn't there. Frowning slightly, but not thinking anything was wrong, I rolled back over and pulled the covers up to my chin. Sam had always been an early riser—I was used to it, even though we'd been apart for a year.

Just as I was starting to fall asleep again, my instincts kicked in and my eyes popped open at the sudden sense that something was wrong. _Come on, get up!_ the voice commanded, startling me a little. It hadn't said much since Sam had come back, and I was beginning to enjoy the peace and quiet of having my mind to myself again. _Hurry! Get your ass in the other room! _I did as the voice said for once, jumping out of the bed and quickly pulling yesterday's clothes on, then darting out the door.

Right as I reached our other room, the door opened to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman of about my age. After closer examination, I noticed the very low-cut shirt, super-short skirt, and impossibly tall heels. _Is she a _hooker_? What the _fuck _is a _hooker _doing in here?_

The woman smirked as she looked me up and down, perfect lips pulling back over blindingly white teeth, and, in a slow, sultry voice, said, "_Damn_, he moves fast. Well, have fun. And remember, this _is _your job. Don't walk outta there without getting paid—no matter _how_ good it is." With that, she gave me a wink and pushed past me, swinging her hips in a very well-practiced, eye-catching way.

I gaped after her, unable to form a coherent thought, until Sam's loud throat-clearing broke me out of my reverie. "Howdy, Gari. How's it going?" he said, a self-satisfied grin on his face that only added to my rage and confusion.

"Who the _fuck_ was she?" I shrieked, so furious that the fact that he was standing there half-naked in front of me didn't have the slightest effect.

"Just some whore looking for a good time," he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"So you _slept _with her?" I yelled, clenching my fists tightly as my powers began to get out of hand.

"Well, that_ is_ what hookers are for…" he said slowly, as if talking to a child. "You feelin' okay, Gari? You're usually a little quicker on the uptake than this."

I spluttered angrily, trying to force the words out. "Sam, you _cheated _on me! While I was in the other room! With a _hooker_! And _right _after we had sex for the first time since you got back!"

"Well… we had sex," he said, using that same patronizing tone, "and I wanted more sex. So I found a hooker and got some."

"You don't just _do _that! You and me—we're _together_! Or, at least, I _thought _we were! Last night was special for me! D'you know I haven't had sex in a _year_? And all because I couldn't accept that you were gone and couldn't bring myself to move on! But if you'd do it with that fucking whore while I'm right in the other room, you've probably done it a million times since you've been back!"

He took a step back, seemingly afraid, but nothing showed in those shallow eyes. "Look, I'm sorry," he said, a slight pleading note to his voice, but it just didn't sound real. "You're the one who said you'd accepted that I had to change."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd have changed _this _much!" I retorted. "I didn't think you would fucking _cheat _on me!"

"Gari, I went to—"

"Don't you _dare _pull the Hell card on me again," I hissed, crossing the distance between us and prodding my finger into his chest. "That's _bullshit_, and you know it." I stepped back and dropped my hands to my sides. "You're so _cold_, Sam. So emotionless. So… _empty. _I _know _that going to Hell will change a person—as you've learned from my previous pathetic apology—but you're not even _Sam_ anymore! I don't know who the fuck you are, but you are _not _my Sammy. And—" I stopped abruptly, scared to say what needed to be said. _You can do this. You _need _to do this. He'll just hurt you again. _"And I can't take it anymore," I finished quietly, training my eyes on the floor.

"_What_?" he asked, actually sounding surprised.

"I'm done," I clarified. "I'm done with feeling like I can never do anything right by you. I'm done with beating myself up about everything that happens. I'm done with it—with _all _of it. I'm leaving."

"Gari, I—"

"_No_," I interrupted. "I can't take it anymore. I can't keep looking at you and seeing my Sammy and knowing that I'll never have him. It's like Karma's getting me back for everything I've ever done, just by giving me you. It's too painful, and I give up." I sighed, straightening my shoulders and looking him right in those cold, empty eyes. "So have fun hunting on your own. Oh, and try not to catch an STD from all the whores you fuck."

With that, I stormed out of the room, my powers finally breaking loose and slamming the door behind me. I made it back into my room just in time for me to break down completely.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I knocked on the worn wooden door, impatiently tapping my foot as I waited for someone to answer. Just as I raised my hand to knock again, Bobby appeared in the doorway, looking surprised.

"Gari," he said, giving me one of his rare smiles. "Didn't expect to see ya 'round here any time soon. Where's Sam?"

"Long story," I growled.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it," the older hunter said, taking heed of my bad mood. "Come on in, I'll get ya a beer."

I followed Bobby inside and hopped up on the kitchen counter as he pulled a PBR out of the fridge and placed it in my hand. I scowled down at the beer and asked, "D'you have any other kind?"

"I thought that was your favorite," he said, eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"Yeah, but it's Sam's, too," I muttered to myself, but of course, he heard it.

"Okay, what's up with you, kid?" he asked as he switched out the PBR for some other cheap kind of beer. "I figured you and Sam would be inseparable now."

"Yeah, that _would _be expected, wouldn't it?" I said bitterly.

"Gari, what happened?" Bobby asked, and I sighed. If he actually used my name, he was getting serious.

"The fucking bastard cheated on me!" I burst out angrily, unable to keep it in any longer. "I woke up this morning and found a fucking prostitute leaving his room! And we had sex for the first time since he's been back last night!"

The older hunter's expression at my last sentence was almost funny enough to make me laugh, but not quite. "Uh, didn't needa know that much, kid," he mumbled, a faint reddish tint coloring his face.

"Sorry…"

"Are ya sure we're talkin' 'bout the same Sam here?" he asked warily.

"No!" I yelped. "Because we _aren't _talking about Sam! Whoever—or _what_ever—he is, he's _not _Sam! Sam would never do that to me!"

"Ya sure it's not just a Hell—"

"Not you, too!" I whined, leaping down from the counter. "The douchey-ness and emotionless-ness—that I could see as being a Hell thing. But his carelessness? Those empty eyes? Him _cheating on me_? That is _not _a Hell thing. Whatever was pulled out of the Cage is _not Sam._"

"Alright, so what're ya gonna do about it? Tell Dean?"

"D'you really think Dean will believe me if I tell him his precious little brother has been replaced by a pod person?" I responded, rolling my eyes. "He'd laugh in my face!"

"So what _are _ya gonna do?" Bobby asked, narrowing his eyes, just barely seen through the shadow of his trucker cap, in my direction.

"First things first," I said, examining the bottle in my hand. "You got anything stronger than beer?"

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I took another swig from the large, square bottomed bottle I was holding and tried to keep my seat on the kitchen counter. I had no clue what the hell kind of alcohol I was drinking; all I knew was that it was the strongest Bobby had and that I was on my second bottle. I was also quite drunk, something I rarely allowed myself to be.

I heard footsteps as someone entered the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes once I saw who it was. The Winchester brothers had arrived at Bobby's house a few hours after I had, and I had spent that time successfully avoiding both of them—until now. Anger bubbled up inside of me at the sight of the younger Winchester—or rather, Winchester-imposter—but I quickly washed it away with another drink.

"'M still mad at you," I slurred, pointing a shaky finger in his direction.

"Gari, what are you doing?" Sam asked exasperatedly.

"What's it look like, smarty-pants? 'M drinkin' my troubles 'way."

"And just how much have you had to drink?"

"Two bottles of this stuff!" I replied happily, thrusting the bottle into his face. "Whatever the fuck it is…"

"Don't you think you've had enough?" he said calmly.

"Who the fuck're you to tell me when I've had enough?" I snapped. "You're not my mama, or my daddy, and you're cert'nly not my Sammy!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "So you're still on that."

"Duh, dumbass! Until you're Sam, I'ma be 'on that.'"

He opened his mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he said, "Gimme the bottle, Gari."

"Fuck off!" I spat drunkenly. "Get your own!"

"Gari, that's enough."

"Oooh, big tough guy wit' a big tough voice!" I mocked. "You're too bossy! I don' like it!"

"Seriously, Gari. Hand it over."

"Seriously, NotSam. Nuh-uh! 'S mine!"

He rolled his eyes again and lunged for the bottle. I jerked it away quickly, almost falling off the counter in the process. "Gari, give it to me!" he ordered.

"No!"

He went for the bottle again, and this time he got it. I refused to let go, trying fruitlessly to pull it out of his grasp and keep my seat. "Gari, let it go!"

"No, _you _let it go! I had it first!"

We continued to fight over the bottle until I finally gave up and released it. Sam stumbled backwards and the bottle slipped from his hands, shattering into a million tiny pieces and splattering us with the rest of its contents as it hit the floor.

"Saaam, look what you did!" I whined, jumping down from the counter and wobbling as I tried to regain my balance.

"What _I _did?" he said bewilderedly. "You're the one who wouldn't give up the bottle!"

"Well, I had it first! So it's _your _fault!"

"Well, I'm sorry for worrying about you!"

"'S bullshit! You don't have feelings! You're fakin' it! You fake everything now!"

"Whatever, Gari," he sighed.

"'Whatever, Gari,'" I mimicked in a poor imitation of his deep voice, sticking my tongue out at him childishly. I frowned down at the broken bottle and sighed dramatically. "Well, since I got nothin' else to drink, I guess I'ma go to bed," I said sadly. "Thanks a bunches."

"That's probably a good idea," Sam said.

"Fine! Whatever! I'm tired, and I'm drunk offa my ass, and you're still douchey! G'night, NotSam!"

I stomped off towards the stairs, somehow managing to walk in a sort of straight line. I raised my foot to go up the first step and suddenly felt myself falling backwards. I let out a little shriek and flailed my arms wildly, only to realize that I never hit the ground.

I looked up at Sam and he grinned. I scowled back at him. "I can walk on my own, thanks!" I snapped, pulling away from him and promptly falling right back into his arms.

"You sure about that?" he teased.

"Yes!" I tried again, making it up three stairs before I fell. This time when he caught me, he swept his arm under my knees, picking me up bridal-style. "What're you doing?" I yelped. "Put me down!"

"For once in your life, Gari, would you _please _just _shut up_!"

My eyes widened and I stared up at him in disbelief. "That was rude," I whispered.

"Shhh!" he hissed, and I fell silent.

I subconsciously curled into his chest, never taking my eyes off his face. "Why'm I mad at you?" I asked him quietly. "I love you, so why'm I mad at you?"

"I have no feelings, remember?" he said mockingly.

"But you're still my Sammy, right?"

"Of course I am."

By now, you know me pretty well. So you know that if I'd been sober, I wouldn't have fallen for that. But, in my current, inebriated state, I was _very _easily fooled.

"Then… then kiss me." He stared down at me for a minute, shocked, then smirked triumphantly. He crushed his lips to mine, and I responded with just as much force. "You taste like Chapstick. It's weird," I mumbled.

"And _you _taste like cheap liquor."

"Touché." I stared up at him again, licking my lips in hungry anticipation.

"What?" he asked.

"I would very much like to have sex with you, Sam Winchester," I replied seriously.

"Wow, you managed to get all that out without slurring once," he said, sounding impressed.

"I wanna have sex!" I repeated stubbornly, curling my hands into fists around his shirt.

"Gari, you've been drinking," he sighed.

"_So_?"

"So you're drunk."

"S'it matter? You got no feelings—don't ya wanna take advantage of me?" I batted my eyelashes girlishly. "I'm here, and I want you. So bad. It's drivin' me mad."

"Do you usually quote The Beatles when you're drunk and horny?"

"Yes," I deadpanned. "Pleeease, Sam! I'm beggin' you! Have sex with me! Don't ya feel like makin' love? You don't even have to pay me!" He chuckled at that, and I grinned, sensing that I was winning. "Sooo? What's it gonna be?" I prompted.

He sighed in exasperation and started up the stairs. He headed into my room and I pouted, just knowing he was going to leave. But to my surprise, he kicked the door shut behind him and dropped me unceremoniously on my bed.

I hurriedly shed my clothes, struggling to pull my skinny jeans off. He laughed at me, saying, "You're kinda pathetic when you're drunk."

"Just get naked already!" I commanded impatiently, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Alright, alright!" A minute later, he joined me on the bed, a slight smirk on his face. "So, now that you've got me," he began, "what are you gonna do with me?"

A devious grin spread across my face as I moved closer to him. "Whatever I want," I replied huskily, and the rest, as they say, is history.

**It is **_**really **_**late at my house, so I will check over this for errors tomorrow!**

**Ahhh, I had **_**so **_**much fun writing drunk Gari! I hope you guys had as much fun reading that part!**

**Anyway, tell me what you think! And hey, I **_**know **_**that I have some subscribers out there who have never reviewed this or its predecessor, so you better get on that! I don't think you people realize how much a review can make a person's day! Especially mine!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	8. I'm Never Looking Back, For My Sake

**I know it's been quite a while since I've updated, and, as always, I'm so very sorry! I've been loaded down with schoolwork! It is the start of senior year, and I am already **_**way **_**overwhelmed! I'm actually putting off an assignment to post this!**

**Has anyone seen **_**The Possession **_**yet? Jeffrey Dean Morgan is the main character and it's about a demon and it's based on a true story and it scared the shit outta me! I was clinging to one of my guy friends for dear life the entire time, and I usually don't scare very easily!**

**Anyway, that's not important. What **_**is **_**important is reading this chapter!**

**So… Enjoy!**

I woke up with the worst headache imaginable and the fuzziest notion that I'd done something _very_ regretful in my drunken state. I opened my eyes hesitantly, then immediately squeezed them shut as the sunlight streaming in from the window assaulted me.

"Ugh," I moaned, rolling over to bury my face in the pillow. I noticed that it smelled faintly of Hollister and alcohol. Some small part of my mind acknowledged that the old book smell that normally accompanied the others was missing, which bothered me more than it should have. But the other, larger part of me was freaking out as I remembered the full extent of what I'd done the night before.

I sat up abruptly, eyes wide open despite the evil sun. A wave of nausea attacked me like a tsunami and I swallowed deeply to keep it down. I glanced down at myself and groaned as I saw the big, button-down plaid shirt I was wearing. "Oh, my God," I whispered, my voice rasping in my throat. "Oh, _fuck_."

A quiet chuckle sounded from the corner of the room and I jumped slightly, unaware that I wasn't alone. As I saw who it was, I narrowed my eyes, putting all the hatred I could muster into my glare.

"Morning," Sam said, smiling in that self-satisfied way that kind of made me want to rip his head off. "I have to say, last night was better than I expected," he continued, oblivious to the fury and shame radiating off of me. "I didn't think you'd be that good drunk, but I was pleasantly surprised."

"Shut up," I growled, flopping back down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling as I began mentally calling myself every insulting name I could think of. I felt the mattress sink down beside me and sighed. "What d'you want, Sam?" I asked without looking over at him. "Can't you just let me hate myself in peace?"

His face appeared above me, that infuriating grin still in place. "Nope, sorry," he said, leaning closer.

I put my hand over his mouth and pushed back. "No_ way_, buddy," I scolded, shaking my head. "I'm not making that mistake again. Despite this fucking hangover, I am completely sober and totally in my right mind. So back it up."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from his face. "C'mon," he said, forcing his old puppy dog eyes, but the emotion in them was gone. That simple realization made the nausea come back stronger.

"Oh, God, I think I'm gonna be sick," I muttered, trying to pull away.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Gari. Now stop struggling."

"I'm not _joking_, you asshole!" I snapped, jerking out of his grasp and running to the little bathroom connected to my room.

I made it to the toilet just in time to empty all the contents of my stomach. Thankfully, it was mostly alcohol. However, there was the slightest red tinge to the liquid, and I hurriedly flushed it down as I heard Sam walking toward me.

"Feel better?" he asked, leaning up against the doorframe.

"I think so," I said shakily.

"Great, now brush your teeth or something. I'm not doing anything with you if you're gonna taste like puke."

"Your concern is oh, so touching," I said sarcastically. "And you're not 'doing anything' with me regardless of whether I taste like puke or not! Last night was a _mistake_, Sam. I was drunk off my ass and feeling overly emotional. And then you show up and the drunk me thinks you're still _my _Sam, so viola! Worst mistake of my life."

"I'm hurt!" he mocked, placing a hand over his heart. "I thought it was pretty good."

"Yeah, you made that clear," I said as I got to my feet. "Now can you _move_? I need to get my stuff and get outta here."

He stepped aside with an amused grin and watched me as I re-packed my bag and changed into some different clothes. I tossed his shirt on the floor in disgust as he asked, "So where ya going?"

I gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Yeah, like I'm telling _you_."

"Aw, come on! I'm still your Sammy!" he said, a slightly depreciating tone to his voice. "Or, at least, that's what the drunk you said."

I took a deep breath in an attempt to control my anger. I zipped my bag with much more force than was necessary, hearing a small ripping sound as I pulled the toggle too far. "Fuck," I sighed.

"You're not seriously leaving?"

"Uh, what does it look like I'm doing? D'you think I'm just packing my stuff for the hell of it?" I turned to face him as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "I already told you I'm leaving. I told you I'm done. So now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to walk out that door, say goodbye to Bobby, and be on my way."

Sam stepped in front of the door to the hall and crossed his arms, looking at me expectantly. "Oh, really? And how d'you plan on doing that?"

"Sam, get out of my way," I said, rolling my eyes in exasperation. He shook his head, his grin growing wider. "Sam…" I said slowly, letting the smallest note of annoyance creep into my voice. My patience was beginning to grow very thin. "Move," I ordered him.

"Make me," he replied tauntingly.

_Okay, that does it. I'm _so _over this. _"Fine," I said, shrugging nonchalantly. "But just remember, you asked for it." With that, I took both hands and pushed him, the force of my powers sending him flying into the opposite wall. He collided with a loud thud then dropped to the floor, staring up at me in shock.

"You just used your powers on me," he said, eyes wide with genuine surprise.

"I told you—you asked for it."

His eyes narrowed and I got the sudden overwhelming sense that I had just crossed a major line. I took a step back as he started to get up. "That was a bitch move, Gari," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"I know it," I said calmly, hopefully masking the fear that was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I knew that _my _Sam would never hurt me, but this definitely wasn't my Sam. I had no _clue_ what he was capable of. "But hey, I warned you." The anger on his face became truly frightening and I took another step back. "Well, uh, I'm gonna go now," I rushed out. "Adios, NotSam!" I called as I sprinted down the stairs.

Bobby poked his head out of the study as I dashed through the house. "What's goin' on?"

"Gotta jet, Bobby," I said, barely slowing my pace. "See you soon!"

I opened the front door and headed for my car, picking up speed as I heard Sam call my name. I slid into the driver's seat and shoved the keys in the ignition, then cranked up and sped out of the junkyard without looking back.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

My cell phone began playing "Youth Gone Wild" by Skid Row and I smiled. It reminded me of happier times, back when the Winchesters and Ella and I were just starting to get along. Back when Sam and I were just starting to get close. I guess that's why I'd kept it for so long.

I shook my head to clear it and answered the phone with a short, "Hello?"

"Gari, where the hell are you?" Sam growled, and I sighed, closing my eyes momentarily.

"Why the fuck d'you care, Sam?" I asked tiredly. "You and I both know that you feel nothing, so what's with the desire to come after me? Or are you still pissed about me shoving you into a wall?"

He didn't answer either of my questions, instead saying, "Just tell me where you are!"

"G'bye, Sam," I said, pressing the END button and tossing the phone into the passenger seat. "I can't tell you where I'm going, Sam," I continued, talking to the empty car, "because I don't know, either."

Just then, my phone rang again. I made a low, frustrated noise and put the phone to my ear. "Sam, I told you!" I said harshly. "I am _not _telling you where I'm going! Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Um, Gari?" Bobby asked slowly from the other end of the line.

My face flushed and I let out an embarrassed laugh. "Heh, sorry about that, Bobby. Thought you were someone else."

"Yeah, I can tell," he said warily. "So, ya wanna tell me why ya took off this mornin'?"

"Not really…"

"Kid, ya better tell me what's goin' on with you and Sam," the older hunter commanded, exasperation and concern seeping into his voice. "Yesterday ya came in ramblin' about how he cheated on ya and how he's not Sam, but last night you two sounded pretty alright to me."

I blushed again and stuttered out, "It's a long story, Bobby."

"I got nothin' but time, kid."

"I got drunk," I admitted finally. "_Really _drunk. I slept with him. I woke up this morning and realized what I did, then tried to leave, but he wouldn't let me. So I maybe kinda used my powers a little to push him outta the way," I finished sheepishly. "And now he's super pissed and kinda scary."

"That's a long story?" he asked skeptically.

"I left out a lotta details, okay?" I snapped defensively. "The point is I couldn't stay there. And he called me right before you did and is looking for me for some unknown reason—probably to kick my ass—and, quite frankly, I'm a little frightened. I dunno what this Sam is capable of. I mean, _my _Sam, the one you and I both know and love, is like an overgrown puppy! But _this _Sam is like some rabid coyote or something. I dunno."

"Nice comparison," Bobby said drily.

"Shut up!"

"So where're ya goin'?"

"Ella's, maybe," I told him, and as I said it, it seemed like a pretty nice idea. I missed Elle, and I _had _promised her and Dean that I'd come around more… "Don't tell Sam, okay? No matter what he says to you, _do not tell him._"

"Alright, if that's what ya want. But I still think ya needa talk to Dean about him."

I scoffed. "In any other case, Bobby, I'd take your advice in a heartbeat. But Dean and I… we think alike. I know if he came up and told me that he didn't think Sam was Sam after not seeing him for a year, I wouldn't believe him. All Dean wants is his brother back. And until Sam does something truly horrible, Dean's gonna hold on to the thought that he has him. You know how close they are. They're more codependent than Ella and I are—well, were." I sighed. "No, I'm not gonna tell him. He's just gonna have to wait and see."

"I still think ya should tell him," Bobby said, "but I see where you're comin' from. Just be careful out there, alright, kid?"

"Hey, I did fine on my own for an entire year! There's nothing I can't handle now!" I joked.

"I'm serious, Gari."

"I know, old man. I'll be careful. Hell, you know that's my middle name!" Bobby chuckled and hung up, and I dropped my phone in my lap. After that talk, I was _definitely _going to Abbeville. _Maybe Ella can help. But if not, at least I'll see her again._

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

The little robin's egg blue house was a welcome sight. I'd been driving for who knows how long and had gotten lost a few times, but I was finally there. I parked my car in the spot normally occupied by Dean's Impala and got out, practically dancing to the door. The closer I got to the house, the happier I became, the thought of being reunited with Ella making me feel better than I had in a while.

I knocked on the door and rocked back and forth on my heels impatiently. _I can't wait to see her face when she sees me! She's going to be so happy!_

I could hear Ella talking as she came toward the door. "Dev, Jess, you're early!" She opened the door and her mouth dropped open in shock, then quickly formed into a wide grin. "Gari!" she squealed, flinging herself at me. "You're here!"

I laughed and hugged her back, saying, "Yeah, well, I made a promise to you and I haven't been doing too well at keeping it. So I figured I'd drop by."

"I'm glad ya did!" she said as she pulled back. She looked behind me, seeming to be searching for something. _Or someone._ "Where's Sam?" she asked.

"Um…"

"Ah, where're my manners? Come on in!" She led me into the house, chattering the whole way. "I know ya saw a little of the house already when ya were here for the djinn, but ya never got the official tour. That's the kitchen, the livin' room, the spare bedroom—where ya can stay, if ya want—the other bathroom, the nursery, and mine and Dean's room! Well, it's more my room lately…" Her face fell slightly, but her grin soon returned. "Anyway, ya hungry? Thirsty? We got beer! Some cheap, off-brand kind, yeah, but it's beer!"

"Just water," I said slowly, slightly overwhelmed. Plus, I didn't really feel like drinking any form of alcohol after my drunken escapades not too long ago…

"Alright, c'mon!" We walked back into the kitchen and she poured one glass of water for me and one for herself. "So what's goin' on?" she asked as she handed me the cup. "Where's Sam?"

I stared down at my water, reluctant to say anything, but I knew she wouldn't just let the matter drop. "I kinda… left him," I confessed quietly.

"Why?" she gasped. "What happened?"

"This is gonna take a while to explain. Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Yeah, sure, c'mon!" I followed her into the living room and took a seat beside her on the small couch. It was pastel blue and yellow plaid, and I once again wondered how Dean felt about Ella's super girly ways.

"Well," I began, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, "it started the day you guys found me…" I then proceeded to tell her everything about my issues with Sam, from the slight differences in his posture and the emptiness of his eyes to his lack of emotion and concern for others. And then, of course, there was the whole cheating ordeal. She was shocked and angry in all of the right places, giving me her undivided attention for the better part of an hour. "So I left him," I finished, staring down at my still-full glass of water.

"Oh, Gari, I'm so sorry!" she said, squeezing my hand gently. "Why didn't ya come to me sooner? Ya coulda stayed here this whole time!"

"I didn't wanna believe it, Elle." I let out a mirthless laugh and shook my head as I reflected on my stubborn refusal to see the new Sam for what he was. "He was back. I thought I had lost him forever, and he was back. I didn't wanna believe that he wasn't my Sammy anymore." I sighed deeply. "But I guess I can't deny it now."

"Well, who needs him?" Ella exclaimed. "Ya never needed a man before! You're Garideth Leigh Vulcan! You're a strong and independent woman! You're my big sister! And you're totally badass!"

I laughed for real this time. "Thanks, babe," I said with a grin. _I should've come here sooner. I forgot how awesome it feels to be around her._

Suddenly, a loud cry rang out from the back of the house. "Ah, they're awake," Ella said wearily, and I just then noticed the look of exhaustion on her face. "I don't mean to whine," she said, "but bein' a single mom is hard work!" I knew she was only referring to herself as a single mom because Dean was hardly around, but I detected the slightest trace of bitterness in her voice. _I definitely should've come sooner. I may not know anything about babies, but it looks like she could use the help._

"Can I see them?" I asked as she stood up and started to head to the nursery.

"Of course! C'mon!" I followed her back through the house and into the nursery, then stopped in the doorway. She noticed the look on my face and said, "Don't be nervous! They're just babies!" She reached down into one of the cribs and picked up a crying baby, then started rocking it back and forth and making soft cooing noises. _Okay, this is _so _not gonna work for me. I don't do tender and motherly._

"Um, maybe I should just let you deal with—"

"No, it's fine!" Ella interrupted. "C'mere. Will ya hold her?" I swallowed nervously and shuffled forward. "Here," she said, handing the baby to me. "See? Nothin' to it!"

_Well, at least she's stopped crying_, I thought, trying to stay positive. I stared down at the baby in my arms and she stared back curiously. I couldn't help but smile as I noticed that she had Dean's bright green eyes and just a few of Ella's curls. "What's her name?" I asked softly as she latched on to my index finger.

"That's Sami," Ella replied as she picked up the other baby. "Samantha Janine Harken: Samantha for Sam, and Janine for Milla and Mama. And this is Johnny," she said, walking toward me so I could better see the baby in her arms. "Jonathon Gregory Winchester: Jonathon for John, even though he was just John, and Gregory for Dad. We decided to give them different last names 'cause we aren't married. Plus, I wanted to keep the Harken name goin' for at least one more generation."

I gave her a watery smile, for some reason getting very emotional over the names. "They're beautiful, Elle." Johnny watched me with big blue eyes as I wiped away a stray tear. It was amazing that the twins looked so much like their parents, yet so much like each other.

"Yeah, I thought so too," she said, staring lovingly at her children. "Ya wouldn't believe how long I spent thinkin' up the names. I had to…"

I subconsciously tuned her out as I looked down at Sami. She released my index finger and reached for the amulet around my neck, the one that matched Ella's. When she realized that she couldn't grab it, she poked her bottom lip out and fixed me with a look that made me gasp in shock.

Ella heard my intake of breath and said, "Yeah, I know. First time she did it, I 'bout broke down right there. Never expected to see those puppy dog eyes again." I slowly removed the amulet and gave it to Sami, causing her to give me a big, chubby-cheeked baby smile. "I'm just glad Dean never saw her do it. Hell, he never gave her the chance to! She's a daddy's girl through and through!"

I grinned, not surprised in the least that Dean would spoil his kids. I knew he'd do anything to avoid becoming John, and it seemed he was doing a pretty good job so far. _Besides being gone all the time with NotSam_, I thought agitatedly. _He needs to get back here and take care of his kids and Ella. This is where he belongs, not out there with that _thing _in his brother's body!_

"I couldn't let him stay, Gari," Ella said, knowing what I was thinking. "His heart wouldn'ta been in it. He belongs out there with Sam—ya know it, too."

"Yeah, Elle," I agreed. "He belongs with _Sam. _Not with that thing that he thinks is Sam."

"I know. But there's nothin' ya can do." Surprisingly, she had agreed with me on not telling Dean about my suspicions yet. If we ever thought Sam was truly dangerous, we'd say something, but until then, we figured we'd let Dean have his brother back.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Expecting company?" I asked.

"It should be Dev and Jess. They wanted to come over tonight. Be right back." She shifted her hold on Johnny and left me in the nursery with Sami, who was now happily chewing on my amulet.

A few minutes later, Ella, Devon, Jess, and a small half-Mexican girl I had never seen before came into the nursery. "Gari!" Devon exclaimed, rushing to give me a hug.

"Hey, Dev!" I said, almost as happy to see the teen as she seemed to be to see me. I returned the hug awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable way to hold Sami. "Hey, Jess!" I grinned at the younger sibling and she waved enthusiastically. "And hello, friend of Devon and Jess!" I said to the other girl.

"Oh, this is Emily," Devon explained. "She's pretty much my best friend." Emily smiled shyly at me and I smiled back, trying not to look as intimidating as I often did. "Em, this is the chick I was telling you about," Dev said to her friend. "She's probably the coolest adult you'll _ever_ meet—at least, until _we _become adults."

"Hey!" Ella said, pretending to be offended. "That stings a little!"

"Don't worry, Ella," Jess assured her, "you're still cool!"

"Yeah, just not as cool as I am," I teased, and Ella responded by childishly sticking her tongue out at me.

"Y'all stayin' the night?" she asked the girls, and Devon and Jess nodded.

"If that's cool with you," Jess said.

"Well, really, even if it's not, we're staying," Devon amended. "Your house is _ours_!" She rubbed her hands together deviously and let out an evil laugh. "Muahahaha!"

Emily laughed and said, "Why am I even friends with you?"

"Because I'm _awesome_!"

"No, you're not! Dude, don't lie!" Jess sang, and the three teens busted out laughing. I shook my head, smiling at their craziness.

"Are they like this all the time?" I asked Ella quietly.

"Pretty much," she replied. "It can get _real _crazy around here."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"I don't care what you say—Boromir and Faramir are _mine_, and there is _nothing_ you can do about it!"

The girls had been arguing about Lord of the Rings characters for almost thirty minutes, and it became increasingly hilarious as their reasons for deserving characters became more elaborate. Apparently, they had just introduced Emily to Middle-earth and its beautiful men and the debate had been going on sporadically for a few days.

"Devon, you can't have _two _characters!" Jess argued.

"And why not?" the older sibling questioned. "You like Aragorn the best anyway! Why does it matter if I get both Gondorians?"

"I don't care who gets who," Emily said calmly. "As long as I get Legolas, I am perfectly happy."

The sisters ignored her, the argument getting even more out of hand as Devon also claimed Haldir, Eomer, Sam, and Pippin as her men.

"You can have Gimli!" she told Jess. "He's funny!"

"But he's not _pretty_!" Jess complained. "He's short and bearded!"

"Hey, what's wrong with being short?" Emily asked, seemingly offended.

"Nothing if you're a _girl_! But short guys are losers!"

"I still think that's a mean thing to say! And I _like _his beard! It has braids!"

"Emily and Gimli, sitting in a tree," Devon started, and Jess joined in. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Gimli with a baby carriage!"

"I'm never hanging out with you guys again," Emily muttered, crossing her arms and sinking down in her seat.

"Aw, c'mon, Em!" Devon said. "You know you love us!"

"Yeah, I mean, how could you not?" Jess added. Emily grumbled to herself, but allowed a small grin to creep over her face.

"How d'you deal with this?" I asked Ella after I stopped laughing at the girls.

"Eh, it's not bad," she replied. "Don't they remind ya of anyone?"

"Hm… Nope, no one comes to mind," I joked.

"I challenge you to a duel!" Devon exclaimed suddenly, leaping to her feet. "The winner gets to claim as many men as she wants!"

"You're on!" Jess agreed.

"Eh, why not?" Emily said.

"Lady Eloise!" Devon called pompously. "Where hast thou placed our weapons?"

Ella laughed and shook her head. "Be right back," she told me. A few minutes later, she returned with three Nerf swords, each covered in different doodles.

Devon immediately grabbed the shortest one and gazed at it lovingly. "Ah, Sting," she said quietly. "You may be small, but you have not yet failed me! Together, we will be victorious once again!"

Jess rolled her eyes and said, "No way! Riptide is _way _better than Sting!"

"Blasphemy!" Devon yelped. "Sting is the best!"

"You're _both _wrong!" Emily said, brandishing her own sword. "Excalibur is the master of all blades! He is legendary! He is power! You will fall beneath his might!"

Ella giggled as she walked to the middle of the living room and, using a fake British accent, said, "Champions! This tournament is the ultimate test of strength and superiority! This is your chance to prove yourself! This is the chance for victory! This is the chance to claim any Middle-earthling as your own! Are you up to the challenge?"

"'Aye, that we are, milady!" Devon answered, a cocky grin on her face. She flipped the Nerf sword around in her hand, showing off her talent with the foam blade.

"'Aye!" Jess and Emily said in unison.

"Then let the tournament… BEGIN!" Ella slung her arms out to the side, then curtseyed and stepped out of the girls' way.

Devon immediately attacked her sister, jabbing Sting into Jess's stomach. The younger sibling crashed to the ground, clutching her fake wound and letting out a very convincing cry of pain.

"That's the fastest Dev's ever got Jess out," Ella said as she clapped politely.

Emily looked at her friend with wide eyes and took a step back. "It doesn't have to end this way," she said pleadingly.

"Oh, but you know it does," Devon replied, an evil smirk spreading over her face.

"So be it." Emily dropped her fighting stance and sank to her knees, hanging her head in defeat.

Devon let out a victory yell and jumped into the air. "I am the champion, my friend!" she sang. "And I'll keep on fighting till the end! I am the champion, I am the champion!" She danced around the room, waving Sting over her head triumphantly. "No time for losers 'cause I am the champ—oof!" She looked down at her stomach, shock all over her face, as she saw Emily's sword. "You… you tricked me…" she breathed, falling to her knees.

"Never underestimate the wielder of Excalibur!" Emily exclaimed, getting back to her feet. "Your arrogance was your downfall, my friend. I suggest you reflect on that as you enter the afterlife. Maybe your soul can still be saved."

"You… were a worthy opponent…" Devon gasped out, then her eyes rolled back into her head and her tongue lolled out of her mouth.

"I just want Legolas," Emily shrugged, and she plopped down on the couch, looking very proud of herself.

I busted out laughing, clutching my stomach and almost falling out of my chair, and soon the other girls were laughing with me. _Man, I love these kids._

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I woke up suddenly and looked over at the clock. _Three in the morning. So I've only been asleep for like two hours. Ugh._

We had all stayed up talking about different fictional characters, particularly those from Lord of the Rings, Teen Titans, and Percy Jackson. Jess had been the first to fall asleep, and Emily and Devon soon followed suit.

I got out of bed and wandered into the hallway, knowing that something had to have woken me up. I peeked into the nursery and saw that the twins were still fast asleep, then continued down the hall to the living room. The girls were sprawled out over the mess of blankets and pillows that Ella had laid on the floor, all sleeping deeply. Jess was curled up in a ball, Emily was laying on her stomach with her face in a pillow, and Devon had a long leg thrown across both of the other girls. I stifled a chuckle at their positions and moved on to Ella's room.

It was empty. The bed was made up and looked like it hadn't even been sat on all day. _Oh, no, Elle. Where are you?_

I walked into the kitchen, but she wasn't there either. I was about to leave, but then I saw the computer. I sat down in the rolling chair and shook the mouse to wake up the monitor.

What I saw made my heart drop into my stomach.

It was a news article about a series of deaths. All of the victims had died from having their hearts ripped out of their chests, and all of the deaths were marked off as animal attacks.

_Werewolf._

I scrolled down the page until I found the location of these attacks. It was four hours from here, in a small town in Georgia.

I dropped my head into my hands and sighed. _Why now? She was so happy. Everything was going good. So why now?_

I pushed myself away from the computer and walked back to my room. I reached into my bag and grabbed my cell phone, letting out another sigh as I hit speed dial number four and put the phone to my ear.

"Yeah, Dean?" I said into the mouthpiece. "It's about Ella… We need to talk."

**So, review it, lovelies!**

**I had **_**so **_**much fun writing Devon, Jess, and Emily! I just let my nerdiness flow and had no problems with them whatsoever!**

**I also have a surprise for you guys… Sometime this week, I will post a one-shot that ties into my **_**Not Strong Enough **_**series. I'm not saying what it's about, but I will say that I am **_**so unbelievably proud**_** of the work that I put into it and of the end result! One of my friends who doesn't even watch Supernatural said she cried like a baby while reading it and said it was so good she had to read it **_**twice**_**! (Sorry, that sounded braggy, didn't it?) Anyway, be on the lookout for it! It's titled "I Didn't Know I'd Love You So Much!"**

**I'll look over this for errors in the morning, seeing as it's almost five in the morning here and I am **_**so **_**tired.**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	9. It's A LoveHate Heartbreak

**Okay, I wanted to have this up yesterday—and you'll know why in just a second—but due to my super-insane assignments for my Dual Credit English class, I didn't have the chance. But anyway, here it is! I am **_**so**_** ready for Sam to get his soul back so I can focus on a different type of drama for Gari, and after the next chapter or so, I **_**will **_**be skipping quite a few episodes—at least until Appointment in Samarra. So… Sam **_**will **_**get his soul back soon! Thank Cas! Soulless Sam is **_**killing **_**me! I thought watching him was bad, but writing him is **_**so **_**much worse!**

**I wanted to say happy belated birthday to my best friend **_**ever**_**, HeadStuckInTheClouds! She's helped me oh, so very much with this story, mostly by keeping me inspired and helping me believe that I **_**could **_**get past Soulless Sam! (She's a Sam girl too, and him being soulless drives her just as crazy as it does me! We've whined about his soullessness for **_**hours**_** on end!) And to think, without , I never would have found this amazing little half-Mexican! (And in case you couldn't figure this out, I wanted to have this chapter up yesterday because yesterday was her actual birthday!) So, HeadStuckInTheClouds, I also wanted to say thank you for being such an amazing person and such an insanely obsessed fangirl. You make me feel somewhat normal, and I found that I actually enjoy that from time to time. You know what? You're awesome! No, not awesome! You're spectac-**_**ulac**_**-ular!**

**Oh, and if you like The PowerPuff Girls, go read her story **_**Forbidden**_**! It's set when the girls are in high school, and it involves romance between Bubbles and a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy! Plus, she often adds song lyrics from bands such as Shinedown and Crossfade, which makes her story infinitely more perfect!**

**Okay, that's enough for my author's note. Enjoy the chapter!**

I bounced my leg up and down impatiently, staring at the clock for what must have been the millionth time in five minutes. _Hurry up, hurry up, _hurry up_! _I thought desperately. _Goddammit, Dean! You're the most reckless driver I know! What the fuck is taking you so long?_ I picked absentmindedly at a loose seam on the couch, then stopped when I realized how pissed Ella would be if I tore up her furniture.

I heard a groan and my gaze shifted to the three girls on the floor. Devon stretched her arms and yawned, opening her eyes slowly. She caught sight of me and grinned sleepily, muttering a soft, "Morning."

"It's one in the afternoon," I told her, allowing a small smile of my own.

"Your point?" she replied groggily. She pushed herself into a sitting position against the couch and yawned again.

"You're so lucky! I don't think I've ever slept late in my life."

"Not even when you were little?"

My grin faded as I thought of my childhood. I shook my head. "Not even then."

"Sucks for you!" Devon looked around for a minute, then asked, "So where's Ella?"

"Um…" I had thought of a countless number of excuses as to why Ella was gone, but as I started to answer Devon, all of them seemed stupid. Finally, I decided I had only one option: I had to tell Dev the truth. She deserved to know after what our job had put her through. _And besides, she already suspects something. She's a smart girl; she'll figure it out eventually._

"Come with me," I said at last, getting up from my spot on the couch. She stood slowly, giving me a confused look, but followed me into the guest room all the same. "Devon, how much do you know about what we do?" I asked once I shut the door.

"Ella said that you guys owned this business together and you had to travel a lot…" the teen said slowly.

"And did you believe her?"

"No, not at all."

"Smart girl," I praised. "So… what _do _you think we do?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, suddenly shy. "It—it's stupid. It's not possible and I know it. Just 'cause I want something to be real doesn't mean it is."

"Unless you're trying to conjure a tulpa," I said with a grin.

Her eyes grew wide and she beamed. "So it _is _real?" she gasped. "The _Supernatural _books—Sam and Dean—it's all _true_?" I nodded. "So… so those guys that came after us… they were djinn, right?" I nodded again. "Sweet Lord of the Rings!" she exclaimed. "That's just _amazing_!"

"Well—"

"I mean, it's not _amazing_," she quickly corrected herself. "Monsters are real, which _sucks_, but wow! Sam and Dean are _the _Sam and Dean! Does Sam really have demon blood? Did Dean really go to Hell?"

"Yeah, Dev," I replied. "It's all true."

"But how did Dean get out?"

"Castiel."

"Who?"

"An angel," I explained. "Cas saved Dean and helps us out from time to time." _Whoa, I haven't seen Cas in over a year… I wonder how he's doing as the new sheriff in town._

"If angels are real…" Devon began, "does that mean God is, too?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Some angels believe in Him, some don't. Some say He's dead. Some say He's just stopped caring."

"What do _you _say?"

"Personally, I don't care," I answered honestly. "If He's dead, well, there's nothing we can do about it. If He's alive, I want nothing to do with Him. He's—" I stopped abruptly, not about to lay my religious issues on a seventeen year old girl.

Devon nodded, understanding my hesitation. "That's how I feel, too," she said. "So, um… D'you know where Ella is?"

"Yeah, I do. She's gone after a werewolf."

"But… I don't get it," the teen said, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion. "Why'd she just leave? She's got a family now—didn't she quit?"

I sighed. "Yeah. She _did _quit. But werewolves have a special place in Hell to her."

"Why? What's so special about—?" She froze, her mouth hanging open. "Camilla…" she said slowly. I nodded. "Oh."

"Yeah, so is there anyone around here who could keep the babies?" I asked in an attempt to change the subject. "I dunno how long we're gonna be gone."

"We?"

"I've gotta go after her," I said. "She gets irrational around werewolves. She's too desperate to avenge Camilla."

"Oh."

"Sam and Dean should be here by now," I mumbled, and Devon immediately perked up.

"Sam's coming?" she said excitedly.

"Yeah."

A wide grin spread across the girl's face. _Wonder if she's gonna notice how different he is._ "Wait," she said, her grin fading a little. "You and Sam are together, aren't you? Why d'you seem so unhappy?"

"No. We're not together." I tried to keep the resentment and animosity out of my voice, but I'm not sure how well it worked.

"Oh, what—?" She was cut off as the doorbell rang, and the grin reappeared on her face. "They're here!" she squealed. Normally, I would've found her enthusiasm amusing, but today it was just annoying. Plus, I couldn't help but worry about how disappointed she'd be at the changes in Sam.

"Yippee," I said sarcastically as I went to open the door. _Please let Dean see me first. Maybe he can stop Sam from killing me._

"Howdy!" Sam said with false friendliness as I opened the door. I just barely noticed the dangerous look of his grin. I knew that Devon wouldn't pick up on it at all.

"How's Bobby's wall?" I asked, letting the slightest trace of venom slip through my light tone. "Didn't leave too big of a dent, did you?"

His eyes narrowed for a second, then he regained his composure. "Nope, the wall's fine. I am too, if you're wondering."

"Oh, of course! That's what I meant to ask first! Your well-being is my primary concern!"

Dean walked up just in time to stop us from throwing punches at each other. "Hey, Gari. How's it goin'?"

"Been better," I replied, losing the attitude as I turned to him. "You?"

"Yeah, me too." He frowned. "You gonna lemme in my house?"

"Sure." I stepped aside to let them in. As Sam went by, his hand reached out and grabbed my ass. I flinched and growled at him, making a silent swear that I'd get him back later. He winked and gave me that infuriating smirk, then followed Dean into the living room.

"Hi!" Devon said as she saw us. I noticed that she'd had time to brush her hair and it looked like she'd put on a little makeup. Jess and Emily were now awake, but they were propped up against each other, still looking half-asleep.

"Hey," Dean said, giving the teens a warm smile. Jess and Emily mumbled incoherent replies from their spot on the floor.

"Hi, Sam," Devon said shyly, forcing herself to look at his face.

"Hey." Sam's eyes roved over her body, taking in the short pajama bottoms and the tight tank top. Seeming pleased with what he saw, he gave her a cocky grin. "Devon, right?"

She smiled brightly and nodded. "Uh-huh!"

"You've grown," he said appreciatively, a hungry look in those cold eyes.

"Heh, thanks," she said, her cheeks flushing a deep red.

I grabbed Sam's arm and dug my fingernails in. "Can I talk to you?" I muttered, trying to keep calm. Without waiting for a reply, I dragged him after me into the kitchen.

"Ow," he said irritably as I released him. "What's your problem?"

"_What _are you _thinking_?" I yelped. I smacked his chest angrily, but I'm pretty sure it hurt me more than it hurt him. Ignoring the stinging pain in my hand, I continued ranting. "She's _seventeen_, for crying out loud!"

"Yeah, so?" He fixed me with that empty stare and shrugged innocently.

"So she's a _kid_!"

"No harm in looking," he replied with an easy grin.

"Yes!" I argued. "_Yes_, there is! She's already head-over-heels for you! _Don't _encourage her!"

"Why d'you care so much?" he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Jealous, Gari?"

I spluttered furiously, unable to form a single word. "_Jealous_?" I finally managed to gasp. "_Jealous_? You are a sick, sadistic, _evil_ bastard! Why the _fuck_ would I be _jealous_?"

"Because you still love me." My jaw dropped and he smirked, knowing he had me beat. No matter what happened, no matter how horrible he was now, I _would_ always love him. And I hated that he knew that.

My mind went temporarily blank and his smirk grew. At that action, I regained my thoughts. "That doesn't mean I can't _hate_ you, too!" I spat.

Before I could react, Sam grabbed me by the waist and pulled me tight against him. He forcefully pressed his lips to mine and placed his other hand behind my head so I couldn't pull away. I struggled against him to no avail as he shoved his tongue into my mouth and pulled me even closer. My powers finally gave me the strength I needed and Sam stumbled backward, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Stay the _fuck _away from me!" I snarled. "And stay away from Devon, too!" I spun on my heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

Dean stopped talking as I reentered the living room. "You okay?" he asked, noticing my furiously distraught expression.

"Fine," I said shortly. "We need to leave. Now." _The sooner we bring Elle back, the sooner I get to go back to avoiding Sam._ I turned to Devon. "So who can take the babies?"

"Jack and Carrie'll keep them," Dean answered me. "I called a minute ago. Lemme go get their stuff."

Sam sauntered back into the room and I strived to keep the disgust off my face. "I'll help," I volunteered quickly, eager to get away from the younger Winchester. I followed Dean back out of the living room and tried to ignore the grin Sam was giving me.

When I entered the nursery, Dean had Sami in his arms and she had his amulet in her mouth. I smiled and said, "Wow, I'm impressed. You actually look like a dad."

"Shut up," he snapped, but he was grinning all the same.

I walked over to the playpen and picked up Johnny. He immediately latched onto my finger and gurgled happily. "They really are beautiful, Dean," I said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied proudly. His brow furrowed slightly and he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "So, um…" he began hesitantly, which I found rather odd. Dean was never hesitant. "What's with you and Sam?"

I froze. _Oh, fuck._ "I dunno what you mean," I lied, focusing solely on Johnny's smiling face. Dean scoffed, giving me his signature _bullshit _look. "Nothing's 'with us,' so stop asking!" I said agitatedly.

He smirked, my anger confirming his suspicions. He put his free hand up defensively. "All I know is you ditched him," he said. "I just wanna know _why._"

"We've both changed," I replied coolly. "That's all there is to it." I shifted Johnny in my arms and slung a diaper bag over my shoulder. "Just… be careful around him, Dean," I warned. "I know he _was_ your brother, but… maybe he's not anymore."

He opened his mouth furiously, ready to defend Sam, but something stopped him. "You don't know what you're talking about," he muttered unconvincingly. Sam had obviously done something to him too; he just didn't want to accept that his baby brother could've changed so much.

"Alright." I nodded, deciding to let him continue trying to delude himself. If I thought Sam was truly dangerous to Dean, I'd force him to believe me.

"We should go," Dean said. "We still gotta track her down."

"Ahem," I coughed primly, tapping the blue-stoned amulet around my neck, just like Ella had done when they found me.

Dean chuckled. "That's one way to do it.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"I guess we should go, too," Devon said reluctantly as we walked to the door.

Dean nodded. "Lock up behind you, okay?"

"You want me to lay down a salt line and paint a pentagram under the doormat?" she asked, her hazel eyes twinkling happily. "Or have you already done that?"

His jaw dropped. "How did you—?"

"I told her," I interrupted. "She deserved to know." I looked at Devon. "Lay down a salt line. Oh, and you _can _tell Jess and Emily about this. But otherwise, keep it to yourself, okay?"

"Okay!" she replied excitedly. "Not like anyone else would believe me anyway!"

"That's the spirit!" I gave the teen a one-armed hug. "See you later, girl," I said. "Take care of your sister."

Jess walked up right at that moment. "_Her _take care of _me_?" she scoffed. "_Obviously _I'm the mature one here."

"Look!" Devon gasped, pointing over Jess's shoulder. The younger girl spun around. "What's that? I think it's your _honor_!" Both girls immediately fell into a fit of laughter while the guys and I stood there awkwardly. As Devon caught her breath, she said, "Yeah, _you're _the mature one!"

"_I'll _take care of _them_," Emily piped up from behind Jess. "I may be the shortest, but I'm _definitely _the most mature."

"Says the girl who watches The PowerPuff Girls religiously," Devon quipped.

"It's a very imaginative and complex show!" Emily shot back. "And at least I don't worship a twelve year old monk with air powers!"

"He is an _airbender_! The _last _airbender! And he is the _Avatar_!" Jess yelped, feeling the need to join the argument.

"Maybe we should leave while they're distracted," I mumbled to Dean. He grinned and started backing toward the door.

"Stop right there!" Jess ordered, and we froze guiltily.

"I gotta know right now!" Devon added in a singsong voice. "Before we go any further, do ya love—!" She stopped singing abruptly at the glare from her sister. "Heh. Um, later guys!"

"See ya!" Emily said, and the three girls waved in unison.

We turned to walk out, and as Sam stepped onto the porch, Devon called, "Bye, Sam!" He turned around and winked at her. I rolled my eyes and shoved him, forcing him to walk.

"'Bye, Sam!'" I heard Emily mock, and I smiled to myself.

"Shut up!" Devon snapped.

"Make me!"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

"Filthy mudblood!"

"Michael Boobless!"

"Douchewaffle!"

"Figglenoodle!"

I heard Devon gasp and exclaim, "How could you _say _that? Take it back!"

"_Neverrr_!" Emily refused dramatically. I laughed and shook my head at the two girls' antics.

I stopped suddenly as we reached the cars—well, _car_. The only car there besides mine was Dean's Impala. Sam's Charger was nowhere to be found. "What happened to that piece of shit you were driving?" I asked Sam curiously.

Dean grinned gleefully and said, "Angels crushed it! It's like a sign from _God_!"

"Justice!" I yelped joyously, and I high-fived Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes and slid into the passenger seat of the Impala. "Can we go now?" he asked impatiently.

Dean and I shared another giddily triumphant look, then got in the car. "Anything to please you, Sam—" I stopped myself before I could call him Sammy. He wasn't Sammy. No matter how much I wanted him to be, he wasn't my Sammy anymore.

With that miserable thought still in my mind, I slumped against the window and tried to focus on the matter at hand: getting to Ella.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"You sure this is the right place?" Dean questioned me doubtfully as we drove through a ghetto. Shady-looking guys with suspicious bulks around their waistbands stared at the Impala hungrily, and I'll admit to being a bit nervous.

"The amulet never lies," I said with false confidence. "At least, that's what Bobby said…"

"He's getting old," Sam said nonchalantly. "Maybe he's gone senile."

I let out a small gasp of shock and anger, and even Dean looked surprised. "Don't you _dare _talk about Bobby like that! At least he's not some emotionless _freak_!"

I know what you're thinking: _Oh, my God! She just called Sam a freak! What an idiot! That's the worst thing you could ever call him! You better run for your life! _

But I knew all of this. I clearly remembered the one time I heard Dean call him a freak. He was so enraged that he started throwing punches, and it was actually a little scary. And that was the exact reason _I_ called him a freak. I figured that, if this _was_ Sam—if my Sammy was still buried deep down under all of this new Sam—calling him a freak would cause a major reaction. It would cause some emotion.

Of course, that plan failed.

"What, is that supposed to be an insult?" Sam laughed and rolled his eyes. "I don't remember you being so pathetic, Gari."

It took a strict look from an awe-struck Dean and all of the self-control I had not to slam his head against the dash until he was bloody and unconscious. _No, he's _definitely _not my Sammy…_

Dean stared at his brother, still completely astonished at the lack of reaction from my insult. "What's going _on_?" he exclaimed finally. "You two are drivin' me _crazy_!"

"He's _your _brother," I spat. "Ask _him_!"

"_She's _the one flipping out for no reason!" Sam argued. "Ask _her_!"

"Oh, God, kill me now," Dean muttered, running a hand over his face.

A strained, stress-filled silence fell over the three of us until I finally saw the building we were looking for. "Stop!" I yelped. "There's the motel!"

Dean gave a distasteful glare to the building, but turned into the parking lot anyway. "Why the hell would she stay _here_?"

"The killings are probably happening in this area," I reasoned. "If I know anything about Elle—and I know _everything _about her—she's setting herself up as bait. The wolf that killed Milla generally went after young women. She fits the bill perfectly."

"_Awesome_," Dean said sarcastically. "That makes me feel _so _much better."

"Just… come on," I sighed, getting out of the car. Sam and Dean also got out and followed me to the lobby. I went straight to the concierge's desk and said, "Hey, my name's Beatrix Kiddo. I'm looking for my friend. Her name's Elle Driver." I knew instinctively that Ella would have chosen that name. She always used it for solo cases. "She supposedly got a room here last night."

"Congratulations," the woman said scathingly.

I made a low, growling noise in my throat and opened my mouth angrily, but Dean shoved me out of the way and fixed the woman with an engaging smile. "Hi… Linda," he said as he found her nametag. "Listen, Elle is my sister's friend and she goes off on these crazy party trips all the time. We're always having to chase her down. Think you could help us out?"

Linda smiled, revealing tobacco-stained teeth, and Dean tried not to show his disgust. "Of course, of course," she purred. She looked down at the logbook and said, "Elle Driver… Hm… Room 29, doll."

"Thanks, Linda," he said, giving her another charming grin. He led Sam and me out of the lobby, chuckling triumphantly. "And that's how it's done!"

"Don't let the nice lady's attention go to your head, Deano," I teased. "But I see how hard it can be for you to just forget that smoker's smile!"

"Can it, Black Mamba," he shot back, his lip quirking up in the corner.

"Room 29, right?" Sam said suddenly, and Dean and I immediately stopped bickering. I nodded. "Well, here we are." He knocked on the door and it swung inward. _Something's really wrong here…_

My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw the interior of the room. Debris was everywhere: bed sheets, pillows, furniture—everything was strewn across the room. And right in the middle of the destruction was a small puddle of blood. As I looked closer, I noticed that it was smeared across the carpet, stopping at the window.

I turned to Dean, panic rendering me speechless. His face had been drained of all color and he looked like he was about to be sick. My eyes flicked over to Sam, but his face was emotionless, as always.

I reluctantly turned my eyes back to the disaster in front of us. _Oh, God… Ella… Where _are_ you?_

**So what'd you think? Leave me a review and tell me, peoples!**

**I'm gonna try to get back on a regular schedule with this updating thing, but no promises! Don't hold me to it!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	10. Howling In Shadows

**Sorry this took so long! **

**Duuude, how about that season premiere, huh? Pretty awesome, right? We are GAMBLE-FREE! Of course, I still have some issues—especially about Sammy—but I'm a fan girl. All I do is complain:P**

**Anyway, I don't own Supernatural, blah, blah, blah.**

**Enjoy!**

_What if she's been bitten? What if she's dead? She can't do this on her own. She's never actually gone up against a werewolf alone before. I've always been there with her. What if she can't handle it herself?_

I was jolted out of my paranoid thoughts as Sam reentered the room. "No one saw anything last night," he informed us.

Dean stopped pacing and ran a hand over his face. "Why'd she do it? Why'd she have to run off alone?" he muttered.

"That's just Ella. Werewolves make her crazy," I replied.

"Your amulet, Gari," Sam said suddenly. "It got us here, so it can find her, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I walked over to the large map of the town that Ella had pinned on the wall and tore it down, hearing a loud ripping sound as it pulled off the pushpins holding it in place. I unceremoniously shoved the objects on the cluttered table to the floor and spread the map across it.

"So how does this work?" Sam asked, standing behind me and looking over my shoulder. I tried to ignore the conflicting emotions caused by his close proximity, but it wasn't easy. It was just like my Lucifer dream. Part of me couldn't stand to be around him, but the other part of me was just thinking, _Sammy._

I shook off the emotions and removed my amulet, then let it dangle over the map. "Quarere," I mumbled. Sam's eyes widened slightly as the blue stone in the middle began to glow and the pendant twisted on the string. The amulet started swinging back and forth, then began to make wide circles. It stopped abruptly over an empty area of the map.

"But there's nothing there," the younger Winchester said.

"Don't be too sure about that." I marked the spot on the map with a pen, then placed the amulet back around my neck.

"She's right," Dean said. "There's probably sewer tunnels all under the town."

"This is the last night of the full moon," I mused. "Our last chance to catch the wolf in the act. We better get going."

About thirty minutes later, we pulled up in front of an old warehouse. After about five minutes of Dean protesting against leaving his car unprotected, we finally made our way to the small clearing behind the building. Sure enough, there was an open manhole, the cover nowhere to be found.

"Looks like we got the right place," Sam said.

"Told you so," I replied. Without waiting for the boys, I walked over to the edge of the manhole and quickly descended the ladder. I jumped the last little bit and landed with a wet thud on the floor. _Ugh. What's up with all of these creatures living in sewers?_

Two more thuds sounded, alerting me to the Winchesters' presence. Dean turned on his flashlight and pointed it at me. "Where's yours?" he asked.

"Don't need it," I said. It was true—ever since I'd started drinking the demon blood, I'd been able to see in the dark. I guess it had something to do with embracing the "creature of the night" side of me. I took off at a quick walk without waiting for them to follow.

"Alright then." Dean said from behind me as he and Sam caught up.

As we walked, I began thinking more and more about the case. "This is wrong, guys," I said, deciding to voice my thoughts aloud. "Doesn't this seem weird to you? The wolf didn't just eat her heart and leave the body… It took her. Just like that wolf did to Camilla so long ago. Something's just not right."

"Yeah, _awesome _point, Gari," Dean said scathingly. "But I really don't see how that's important. What's important is finding Ella and killing the son of a bitch that took her." I nodded in agreement and decided to keep quiet, though I still couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't a normal case.

_You're straining yourself_, the voice said suddenly. I knew it was right—I was starting to get that telltale headache that happened whenever I was running low on fuel.

_I don't care_, I replied stubbornly. _I have to find Ella. She's all that matters._

_You could at least use a flashlight. Even seeing in the dark is taking its toll on you now._

_Shut up. I'm fine._

_You sure about that?_

_God dammit, ye—!_ My thoughts stopped abruptly as searing pain shot through my head. I let out a cry and fell to the ground, squeezing my eyes closed tightly. I'd never felt anything like this before. I was used to just getting dizzy and nauseated from withdrawals—the migraine was completely new.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew it had to be Dean. Sam wouldn't care. I turned my head in his direction and forced my eyes open. Black spots danced in my vision, but I still saw the extremely worried look on the older Winchester's face.

"Gari, hey, you okay?" he asked, and his voice sounded as if it were coming from very far away. I groaned and blinked rapidly, curling in on myself as another wave of agony hit me. "Gari, c'mon, stay with me," Dean pleaded. "You gotta help us find Ella, remember? She needs us, Gari." At his words, I gained a new determination. I strived to push the pain to the back of my mind, but it was barely working. "Sam, she can't go on like this," Dean muttered to his brother. "Stay with her or get her outta here or something. I'll go find Elle."

That did the trick. I halfway managed to ignore the pain. Now there was simply a dull, throbbing ache. "N—no," I protested faintly, uncurling from my ball on the floor. "G—gotta find Elle."

"Gari, whatever's goin' on with you isn't something we can just ignore," Dean argued.

"Yeah, we can," I replied, my voice growing stronger. I rose shakily to my feet. "Elle's more important. I'm fine."

"Are you s—?"

"I said I'm fine!" I interrupted agitatedly. "Let's just go!" I stormed forward, then hesitated. I couldn't use my powers anymore until I got more blood. I didn't bother to check the flask in my pocket—I already knew it was empty. I sighed and turned to Dean. "You lead." He nodded and started walking, his flashlight held strangely weapon-like in front of him.

"So what _was _that back there?" Sam asked as we followed Dean.

"It was nothing!" I snapped. I _really _didn't feel like talking, and especially not to _him_.

"Oh, c'mon, Gari. That's bullshit."

"Y'know what _else _is bullshit?" He raised an eyebrow curiously. "_You _acting like you actually _care_!" I picked up my pace and fell into step beside Dean, trying not to cringe as Sam chuckled behind us.

"You really okay?" Dean asked quietly.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and sighed again. "We can worry about me later," I said. "And don't argue with me 'cause I know the first thing on your mind is finding Elle, too."

"Okay, you're right," he relented. "But this _isn't _something that's gonna get in the way of saving her, is it?"

"No," I replied shortly. "It's under control. I'll wait and have my mental breakdown _after _we get her back."

"Oh, yeah, let's joke about it," Dean said sarcastically. "That makes _everything _better." I grinned halfheartedly and we continued forward in silence.

Maybe ten minutes later, I noticed that the tunnel was getting lighter. Sam must have, too, for he told Dean to turn off the flashlight. We moved toward the increasing brightness slowly and softly, and I once again marveled at how someone as gigantic as Sam could move so quietly.

We got to the end of the wall and stopped. The tunnel turned to the right, and the light was even brighter up ahead. Dean cautiously poked his head around the corner, then drew back with an expression somewhere between panic and fury on his face. "She's there," he mumbled. "Tied up on the other side. I don't think there's anyone—"

Before he had time to finish, I darted out into the room and sprinted over to Ella. It was reckless, I know, but all I cared about was getting to her. She went psycho whenever she picked up on a werewolf case; I went psycho whenever she was in danger.

I dropped to my knees beside her and tried not to focus on how bloody and beaten she was. "Ella," I said urgently, taking her cherubic face in my hands. I pushed her lank, filthy curls behind her ears and ran my hand over her sweaty forehead. _Shit, that's a really bad fever… _"Ella," I repeated, shaking her gently. "Wake up, sweetie."

She let out a low moan and her eyelids fluttered weakly. "Milla?" she croaked. _Milla? Why would she call me Milla?_

"No, sweetie. It's me, Gari," I corrected.

"Gari?" Her face twisted up in puzzlement as she opened her eyes and looked up at my face. Recognition suddenly sparked in her sapphire eyes. "Gari!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "Y—ya found me!" Tears clung to her eyelashes. A few of them broke free and trailed paths through the dirt and grime on her cheeks.

"Of course I found you!" I wiped her tears away and grinned. "I always have, and I always will." I glanced down and noticed that her hands were tied. "Here, lemme get that," I said, taking my dagger out of my boot and slicing through the ropes. I barely had time to put my knife back before she threw her arms around me and pulled me into one of her spine-crushing hugs. I tried not to let the weakness of the embrace bother me as I hugged her back tightly and fought back the tears of that were threatening to spill over.

"Gari!" Dean hissed from the tunnel. Ella and I both jumped. I had completely forgotten about the Winchesters. "Everything okay?"

"Dean!" Ella yelped happily, her face breaking into a large smile.

He looked around the room once more before running over to us and kneeling down. "Ella," he breathed, his shoulders sagging in relief. "You okay?"

Ella released me immediately and flung herself into his arms. "I'm so sorry!" she cried, burying her face in his chest. "I didn't know this was gonna happen! It was s'posed to be quick and easy and I was s'posed to be home before ya got back! I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh, it's okay," Dean murmured, rubbing his hand in small, soothing circles on her back. "It's gonna be okay. I've got ya."

She clung to him for dear life as she continued to cry. After a little while, she sniffled and said, "I didn't mean to scare ya like that. Y'know I didn't. And I left the kids and just dropped everything and I'm a terrible mama and—"

"Hey, hey," Dean interrupted gently. "Don't talk like that. The kids are fine. They're with Jack and Carrie. You're still a hunter, Ella. You gotta go with your instincts, and that's never gonna change. And you're an awesome mom, okay?"

Ella sniffled again and looked up at him with big, watery, adoring eyes. "I love you, Dean," she whispered.

"Love you too, Elle."

"Okay, now, if this little love-fest is over," Sam said as he joined us, "we should go. If I'm right, the moon's about to set. We only have a little time to catch this thing. We don't get it tonight, we've lost it for another month.

Ella shifted uncomfortably in Dean's arms. "It's not gonna come back," she said with false conviction. "It dropped me here last night and left. I haven't seen it since."

_She's lying_, I realized with a shock. _Why is she lying?_

Dean gave her an odd look and I knew he had realized it, too. "Okay, well, let's just get you outta here," he said, helping her to her feet.

She started to stand, but her knees buckled beneath her. Dean just barely caught her in time. Her hand went to her stomach, and when she pulled it away, it was covered in blood. "Dammit," she sighed. "Forgot about that."

"So, next stop: hospital?" I suggested as I attempted to stay calm. That much blood _couldn't _be a good thing.

"Can't ya just heal me?" Ella asked, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"I… no," I said apologetically. "I can't." If just trying to see in the dark was enough to cause that weird migraine, I didn't want to know what trying to heal her would do.

"This somethin' to do with earlier?" Dean questioned. I nodded.

"What happened earlier?" Ella piped up worriedly. "Gari, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Elle," I replied. "We'll worry about me later, 'kay?"

"'Kay."

Dean slid his arm under her knees and lifted her easily. "You good?" he asked. She nodded and gave him a small smile. "Sam, lead the way. Take the flashlight."

"I'll watch our backs," I volunteered.

"Good. Let's go."

We had been walking for about five minutes when I got the sense that we were being watched. I ignored the feeling, but picked up my pace anyway. A little while later, the feeling came back stronger, causing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to prickle uncomfortably. I turned to look behind us, walking backwards are I peered into the darkness.

_You're not about to do what I think you're about to do, are you? _the voice asked skeptically.

_It's just a little bit of energy, _I replied. _And it's just for a second. No big deal. _I shrugged mentally, letting the voice know how totally _not _worried I was.

_I'm in your _mind_, dumbass_, it snapped. _I know you're scared of getting that migraine again._

_Shut up._

I drew forth what little power I had left and looked into the dark again. The dull, throbbing ache became worse, feeling as if someone were driving a railroad spike through my forehead. However, the pain was no longer the biggest problem at hand.

Staring back at me from the shadows were two bright yellow eyes. A large mouth full of razor-sharp teeth opened and a bright pink tongue shot out to lick thin, chapped lips. My gaze travelled down to long, wicked claws splayed out menacingly, the hands occasionally tightening into small fists.

It was a woman. She looked to be about my age. She had short, choppy, caramel-brown hair and a face that would've been beautiful if it weren't for the scars and the dirt coating her cheeks.

Oh, and if she hadn't been a feral monster.

"Um… guys…" I said slowly. "I don't wanna alarm you… but we're not alone."

Sam grabbed my shoulder and made me turn around. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the wolf girl who's standing right behind us."

Ella's already large eyes widened even more, and panic and devastation shone clearly on her face. "No…" she breathed. "What's she doin' here?"

Once she realized that we knew she was there, the wolf girl stepped forward into the circle of light surrounding us. She snarled menacingly, advancing on Dean and Ella. _She's targeting the weakest prey. Elle's hurt and Dean's gotta protect her. Whoa, if our lives weren't in danger, I'd find this extreme animalistic behavior fascinating. _

Sam pulled out his pistol and I did the same, both of us aiming at the werewolf. "Would you like to have the honor?" I muttered sarcastically. He nodded, a wry grin on his face.

"No, wait!" Ella exclaimed just as he was about to pull the trigger. She carefully climbed out of Dean's arms and stood beside him, using his shoulder to support her.

"What?" Sam and I snapped irritably. I glared at him—I didn't like how in sync we were at the moment.

In that little bit of time, the wolf decided to pounce on the next weakest prey—me. I fell to the ground with her on top of me, and I struggled to avoid her claws and teeth. "Get her _off_!" I yelped. She scratched at my face and I let out a small gasp of pain as one claw left a long scratch maybe two centimeters from my right eye.

Suddenly she was lifted off me and thrown back into the darkness. Sam grabbed my arm and hoisted me up off the ground. "You're welcome," he said cockily before I had the chance to open my mouth. And after he said it like that, I _certainly _wasn't going to thank him.

The wolf girl moved forward more cautiously this time, walking in a prowling crouch with her hands almost touching the ground. Ella limped in front of us and addressed her. "Please," she begged the monster. "Ya know who I am. Ya can fight it. It's me, Ella. Ya _know _me!"

Her words had no affect on the creature, and I had no time to puzzle over them, for the wolf girl pounced again, this time aiming for Ella. Dean lunged at Ella and knocked her to the ground. The wolf leaped straight over them, then turned and prepared to pounce again.

Sam raised his gun, and this time, I knew nothing was going to stop him. His finger tightened against the trigger, then, just as he pulled back all the way, Ella jumped at him. "_No_!" she shrieked, causing his shot to go off course and the bullet to ricochet off the wall.

He shoved her aside forcefully and she fell backwards, her head hitting the wall of the tunnel with a loud thud. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Ella!" I dashed over to her, but the wolf girl beat me there. She stood crouched in front of Ella's body and growled menacingly, daring us to come closer.

Sam cocked his gun again and aimed it at the wolf. She made a low, whining noise in her throat and shrank back. She backed up to where she was beside Ella and turned to her. Then she did something that shocked us all.

The wolf girl whined again and raised a clawed hand to Ella's face. However, instead of attacking, she pushed Ella's hair behind her ear and nudged her face, continuing to whine pitifully.

Suddenly, I got it. "Camilla?" I called hesitantly. The wolf girl whipped her head around to stare at me, a small snarl escaping her mouth.

"Wait, what?" Dean glanced between the two of us bewilderedly. "You're sayin' that's Camilla? _That's _Ella's _sister_?"

I ignored him and took a tiny step forward. Camilla growled at me, baring her fangs. "Camilla," I repeated softly. "We're not gonna hurt you. We've gotta get Ella to a hospital. She's really hurt." Camilla cocked her head to the side as I talked, and I desperately hoped that she could understand me. I took another step forward and she dropped back into a defensive crouch. _Okay, so much for that…_

"What now?" Dean asked quietly.

"We could wait for the moon to set," I suggested. "It won't be long now. If we can stall her until then—"

"You're joking, right?" Sam broke in, giving a disbelieving chuckle. "She's a _monster_! She's _killed _people! So we've gotta kill _her_!"

"She's Ella's _sister_, Sam!" I argued. "Her _sister_! Who, until now, was supposedly _dead_! This isn't a regular case!"

"Yeah, it is! I don't care _who _she is; she needs to be put down before she hurts anyone else!"

"Sam, Gari's right," Dean said slowly. "This _isn't _a normal case. We need to _think_. We can't jump the gun on this one."

Camilla had been quietly watching us argue the entire time, though she was still in her crouched position in front of Ella. Sam glared at her and she shrank back and growled again, her yellow eyes gleaming with fear and ferocity.

"I'm not 'jumping the gun,'" Sam said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm doing my job. Letting her go isn't right. We let her go, we're responsible for _everything _she does and _everyone _she kills."

"I _know _that," I said pleadingly. "But we _can't _kill her. Not yet. Don't you think Ella deserves to say goodbye?"

"She's unconscious, Gari," he said exasperatedly. "Not like she has any say in the matter."

"Because _you _knocked her unconscious, you dick!" I spat.

"She got in the way," he replied evenly.

"Would you do the same if _I _got in the way?" I asked, crossing my arms angrily. "If _Dean _got in the way?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he said, "She has to be stopped. And if you won't do it, I will." He raised his pistol again and pointed it at Camilla, who snarled in defiance.

"_No_," I said sternly. I stepped in between the two of them, staring up into those emotionless eyes of his. I wasn't too comfortable having my back to an unpredictable werewolf, but I wasn't about to let Sam kill her.

"Gari, get outta the way," he ordered, clenching his jaw in annoyance. I didn't move. "Gari, get outta the way or, so help me, I'll shoot you too."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" I sighed, giving him a bitter smile. "Well, alright." I stood my ground. "_Make me_." Rage filled his eyes—the only emotion he ever truly showed—and it was almost _psychotic. What happened to you, Sammy? _I wondered despairingly as fear bubbled in my stomach. I knew for a fact that he was about to go through on his threat.

"Gari, _move_," Dean half-begged.

"No!" I snapped. "He wants to kill her so badly, fine. But he's gonna have to go through _me_."

"Sam—" Dean started.

"I told her, Dean," Sam interrupted. "We've gotta kill this thing."

"But that doesn't mean you gotta go threatening Gari's life!" Dean desperately tried to reason.

I glared defiantly up at Sam again, silently daring him to pull the trigger.

The next thing I knew, there was a click, a bang, and an exclamation of shock and pain as Sam shot me in the shoulder.

Then all hell broke loose.

Ella gasped awake as I staggered backwards, clutching the wound. Camilla leaped at Sam and tackled him to the ground, clawing and biting at his face. Dean stood stock-still, torn between helping his brother and helping Ella and me.

Sam threw Camilla off him and Dean made up his mind. He dashed over to us and dropped down beside Ella. "Elle, you okay?"

"W—what happened?" she asked weakly. Her eyes widened as she saw my bloody shoulder. "_Gari_?"

I leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and wincing as my shoulder moved. "I'm okay," I said through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, Camilla crashed onto the floor beside me, giving a pathetic whimper as her head hit the wall. Sam advanced on her, that terrible smirk growing on his face.

"Sam, no!" I yelled, but it was too late.

Another gunshot sounded and Camilla let out a cry of pure, animalistic anguish.

"_Milla_!" Ella shrieked, breaking free of Dean's grasp and crawling over to her sister.

Camilla was slowly becoming human again. Her eyes, though glazed and filled with agony, had changed to a dark, chocolate brown. Her teeth were no longer sharp and her claws had receded backwards until they looked like normal fingernails. _Why do they have to turn back human?_

"Ella?" Camilla rasped, her eyes brimming with tears as she saw her sister's face.

"I'm right here, Milla," Ella assured her, her small frame shaking with barely suppressed sobs.

"I—I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Milla. It's not your fault."

Camilla took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm just glad I got to see you… one more time…" She forced a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "I—I love you, little sister…"

Ella choked out a sob. "I love you too, Milla." Camilla's smile grew larger, and then she closed her eyes. She gave one last breath and her body went limp. The ghost of her smile was still etched on her face. Ella dropped her forehead to rest on Camilla's and sobbed, reminding me of how I had cried over Greg's body so long ago. "Milla…" she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat. "No… I just got ya back…"

I placed a hand on Ella's back hesitantly and she immediately turned and flung herself at me. I held her while she cried, whispering, "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. I'm here. I've got you." As I said the words, I realized they were the same words I said to her after Greg died. _I've gotta get some new material_…

"What the _fuck _was _that_?" Dean snarled suddenly, turning on his brother.

"Just doing my job," Sam replied calmly, that self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"You _shot _Gari, and you knocked Ella out!" Dean raged. "She was already hurt! She could've been killed because of you!"

"Dean—"

"No! I tried to deny it, but I can't. I just can't." Dean sighed, emotional pain etched on every line of his face. "Gari was right. You are _not _my brother." I knew I should've been happy that he finally agreed with me, but he was just too distraught for that to matter.

"Just listen," Sam said pleadingly as Dean took a step forward.

"_What are you_?" he growled.

"I'm me, Dean. Look, please, just let me explain." For the first time since he got back from Hell, Sam actually looked _scared_. And some sick part of me found that immensely satisfying.

"Why the hell should I believe anything you say?"

"Okay, okay." Sam stepped back as Dean continued to walk forward, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "You want the truth? Here it is. Here it is. God's honest. There's something wrong with me, really wrong. I've known it for a while. I lied to you. Yeah. And...I let you get turned by that vamp."

"You did _what_?" I gasped furiously, finally joining the fight. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"It's not about you, Gari! Can't you stay out of it for five freaking seconds?" Sam snapped. I flinched backwards, stung by the harshness of his tone. _I should be used to this by now. _Sam turned back to his brother. "I let you get turned because I _knew _there was a cure,Dean, and we _needed_ in that nest! And I knew you could handle it!"

"'_Handle it_?'" Dean yelped. "I could've died! I could've killed people!"

"And that should stop me cold," Sam said, nodding eagerly. "But I—I just don't _feel_ it."

"You _what_?"

"Ever since I came back, I am a better hunter than I've ever been!" Sam explained earnestly. "Nothing scares me anymore! 'Cause I can't _feel_ it!" He paused for a minute and looked down at the ground. When he looked back up, he was doing a poor imitation of the old Sam's puppy dog eyes. Dean looked disgusted, and I was definitely with him there. Those puppy dog eyes made me feel sick. Sam stepped toward Dean, trying to look as unimposing as possible. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he said quietly. "I think... I need help."

Dean stared at Sam for a minute, conflicting emotions warring on his face. He turned away, seeming to debate something, and then faced his brother again. Sam gazed back hopefully, empty eyes still in puppy dog mode.

Before Sam had time to react, Dean drew back and nailed him right across the jaw so hard that he fell to the ground. I leaped back in alarm, though I couldn't help but think how much he deserved that and how much I wish I'd done it.

Dean punched Sam again, equally as hard as the first time. Again and again his fist connected with Sam's face, and still I stood there, watching with no emotion as purple splotches bloomed all over Sam's face.

Finally, I began to get worried. Sam was bloody and unconscious, and had been for a while now. Dean was going too far.

"Dean, maybe you should stop now," I suggested, but he ignored me, continuing to take his anger out on his brother. "Dean, seriously! He's unconscious! Stop!" Still nothing. I latched onto the older Winchester's arm and stopped him before he could land another punch. He spun to face me furiously. "_Stop it_!" I commanded.

"_Why_? You said it yourself—that's not Sam. It hasn't been Sam for a while."

"No, but that's still Sam's _body_. You're still wailing on your brother's _body. _When we fix him, don't you think he might need that?"

His shoulders relaxed as he let my words sink in. "Okay," he said at last. "Okay."

Ella gazed at us from her spot next to Camilla's body, something akin to fear in her eyes. "Dean?" she asked hesitantly.

He exhaled deeply, glancing down at Sam again. "Okay. Let's get outta here."

Ella and I shared a deeply worried look, and I knew she wasn't gonna forget his freak out any time soon. That, paired with Camilla's death, was going to bother her for a very long time. I just hoped she'd be okay eventually. _That's all I can hope for now, isn't it?_

_Hope is for children_, the voice said mockingly, and I couldn't think of any retort. We'd been through enough to last a lifetime just in one night, and all I could think of was putting this all behind me. I never thought I would miss being on my own, but right then, I would've taken loneliness in a heartbeat.

**And there ya go! Oooh, plot twist! Yeah, yeah, it's late and I'm hyper. So sue me:P**

**Anyway, as you can see, I added in the end of "You Can't Handle the Truth" here. I always thought that Dean went a little overboard with the punches in that episode. I mean, I was all for him decking Sam the first five or six times, but it started to get a little out of control. I got worried. I was screaming, "DEAN, STOP, THAT'S STILL YOUR BROTHER! IT'S STILL SAM! STOPPP!"**

**Oh, yeah, that one-shot I posted a while back that I was all mysterious about… Well, it's about the day Greg died, just FYI. I figured I would just tell you guys. And I know I alluded to that day two or three times in this chapter, so yeah. If you haven't read it yet, do it for meee! And leave a review. Reviews are love!**

**Sorry if the ending seemed a little rushed. That's because, well, it **_**was**_** rushed. I put this chapter off for far too long and just wanted to finish it! Hope you guys still enjoyed it!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	11. I Got A Bad Feeling About This

**Okay, excuses are legit this time. I mean, they always are, but these are **_**uber **_**legit. I have been doing SAT practice shit and English is taking over my life and I have college application deadlines coming up and I'm just dying under the stress!**

_**But **_**I took the SAT Saturday and my English class ends December 10****th****, so soon I will be able to get back to a somewhat regular updating schedule! Yay!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

"Where's Ella?" Dean asked as I entered the hotel room.

"On her way home," I replied. "She's fine. The doctor patched up her stomach and gave her some painkillers. She's just supposed to take it easy for a few days." What he _didn't _know was that I'd stopped to refuel on my way back. Once again, I wondered if I was always being followed by demons, or if they were just everywhere.

I glanced at the chair in the middle of the room where Sam was tied up. "He's still out?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise. Dean nodded. "Damn, you think you hit him hard enough?"

"Shut up."

"So, you call Cas?"

"Yeah, he's not answering," Dean said with a frown.

"I'm sure he'll show up soon."

Right on cue, the angel appeared. I managed not to jump for once, but I still flinched internally. "Hello," Castiel said in that deep, monotone voice of his.

"Hi, Cas," I said brightly. I still harbored a slight grudge toward the angel, but I wasn't going to bring it up. "Long time, no see."

"Garideth," he said with a nod. His sharp blue eyes narrowed. "You seem different."

I stiffened. _Could he really know about the blood just by _looking_ at me? _I forced a laugh and said, "Well, my hair _is _black now…"

"That's not what I—"

"So, Cas," Dean interrupted, and I silently praised his impatience. "You mind fixing my brother?"

Something flashed across the angel's face, but it was gone so quickly that I might have imagined it. "What's wrong with him?"

"And _that_ is why we need you," I said. "We've got no clue what's wrong with him, other than the fact that he is _not Sam._"

Sam groaned quietly, and all of us tensed. Castiel walked over to him and bent down. "You're right. He looks terrible." He looked at Dean. "You did this?"

Dean shrugged, as if to say, "Yeah, so what?"

Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly. "Cas? What—?" he grunted, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion as he realized he was tied to the chair. "Let me go."

I laughed mirthlessly. "No way, buddy."

"Has he been feverish?" Cas asked Dean.

Dean glared at his brother. "Have you?"

"No," Sam said. "Why?"

Cas frowned. "Is he speaking in tongues? Are you speaking in tongues?" he prompted the younger Winchester.

"No! What are you…?" Realization dawned in those empty eyes. "Are you diagnosing me?"

"That's _exactly _what he's doing," I said as I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall. I tried not to show how nervous I was. _What if Cas _can't _fix him? What if he's stuck like this forever?_

"And you better hope he can," Dean added.

Sam gave us a disbelieving look. "You really think that this is—"

"What, you think that there's a clinic out there for people who just pop out of Hell wrong? He asks, you answer! Then you shut your hole. You got it?"

"How much do you sleep?" Castiel asked Sam.

Sam wouldn't meet our eyes. "…I don't."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "At all?"

"Not since I got back." _Well, that actually makes a little sense…_

"And it never occurred to you that there might be something off about that?"

Sam sighed. "Of course it did, Dean. I—I just never told you."

"What?"

"Sam..." Castiel began. "What are you feeling now?"

Sam scoffed. "I feel like my nose is broken."

"Yeah, Dean did a pretty good job on your face," I laughed. "Wish I'd have taken part in it."

"No, that's a physical sensation," Castiel said, completely ignoring my comment. "How do you _feel_?"

"Well, I think—"

"_Feel_."

"I... don't know," Sam said slowly. Castiel frowned again and removed his belt. Sam's face was priceless, and if I hadn't been just as freaked out, I would've laughed.

"Whoa, Cas, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, my eyes going wide.

The angel rolled back his sleeves. "This will be unpleasant."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "What—?"

"Bite down on this," he said as he put the belt into Sam's mouth. "If there's someplace that you find soothing, you should go there… in your mind." Castiel shoved his hand into Sam's stomach, and the younger Winchester immediately started screaming.

I leaped back and clutched onto Dean's arm. "What the fuck are you _doing_, Cas?" I yelped.

The angel calmly pulled his hand out of Sam's stomach and rolled down his sleeves. Sam panted heavily, a look of intense pain still on his bloody face.

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked.

"No," the angel said, his brow furrowing even deeper than usual.

"So that's good news?"

"I'm afraid not. Physically, he's perfectly healthy."

I raised my eyebrows. "Then what's wrong?"

Castiel stared at the ground, hesitating a little. "It's his soul," he said finally, fixing Dean with that icy blue gaze. "It's gone."

Dean made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "I'm sorry. One more time, like I'm five. What d'you mean, he's got no—?"

Cas sighed. "Somehow, when Sam was resurrected, it was without his soul."

"So, where is it?" I asked confusedly.

"My guess is... still in the cage with Michael and Lucifer." The angel shifted his eyes again, as if Sam's predicament was somehow _his _fault.

"_What_?" I gasped.

"So, is he even still Sam?" Dean asked.

A thoughtful look crossed Castiel's face. "Well, you pose an interesting philosophical question…"

"Well, then, just get it back!" Dean interrupted.

"Dean—"

"Well, you pulled me out!"

"It took several angels to rescue you, and you weren't nearly as well guarded," Castiel replied, seeming a little irked at Dean's inability to understand. "Sam's soul is in _Lucifer's Cage_. There's a difference, a big difference. It's not possible."

"No, no, no!" I shook my head stubbornly. "These guys have God on their side, more or less. There's gotta be a way to get it back."

"So, are you gonna untie me?" Sam piped up.

"_No_," Dean and I said simultaneously.

"Listen, I'm not gonna—"

"Sam, how the hell are we even supposed to let you out of this _room_?" Dean snapped.

"Dean, I'm not some psycho. I didn't want you to get hurt. I was just trying to stop the vamps." He sighed, and a pleading note entered his voice. He once again gave his brother that empty puppy-eyed stare. "I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again. Please let me go."

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"Well, what are you gonna do, just keep me locked up in here forever?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me," I said with a shrug.

Sam gave me an irritated glance, and then focused on his brother again. "Okay, fine. Look, I get it. I get it, Dean. I was wrong. But I'm telling you, I—I'm trying to get right. It's still me." _The hell it is._

"Is it?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Yes! So just let me go."

Dean's glare faltered, and for a moment, I thought he was going to give in. Then his gaze hardened. "No way in hell."

Sam sighed. "I didn't want it to come to this." _What is he—? _He shrugged his arms slightly and the ropes fell away. _Of course. Well, this _is _Sam freaking Winchester we had tied to a chair. We should've bound him up in chains or something. _ He got to his feet, saying, "You're not gonna hold me, Dean—not here, not in a panic room, not anywhere. You're stuck with the soulless guy, so you might as well work with me." He took a step toward his brother. "Let's fix this."

Dean eyed him warily. "I'm gonna be watching every move you make."

"Fine. Sounds about right to me."

Dean hesitated, then turned to Castiel. "Cas, clean him up." The angel stepped forward obediently and put two fingers to Sam's forehead. Instantly, all injuries and blood were gone.

"You're joking, right?" I gaped at Dean, stunned by his stupidity. "He has no _soul_! He let you get turned into a vamp! He killed Ella's sister _right in front of her_! And he could've killed Ella! And you're just gonna _let him go_? Just like that?"

"Not like we have a choice, Gari," he said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "We can't just leave him chained to a chair, or locked in the panic room, or whatever."

"Why the hell not?"

"We can take care of him," he continued. "C'mon, it's not like he can pull anything around the two of us, is it?" I crossed my arms unhappily and tried to ignore the smirk Sam was giving me. Dean looked at his brother, apparently deciding the matter was settled. "Alright, if we're gonna figure out what happened to your soul, then we need to find who yanked you out. You say you don't know?"

Sam shook his head. "No idea."

"Then we start a list. If it's so hard to spring someone out of the box, then who's got that kind of muscle?" We all glanced at Castiel hopefully, but he just returned our gazes blankly.

"I don't know," the angel said. "You have no memory of your resurrection?" he asked Sam.

"I woke up in a field. That's all I got."

"No clues? None?" Dean tried.

Sam scrunched his brow in thought. "I've got one…"

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Three guesses what—or who—that clue was. Yep, you got it: Samuel. Good old Big Daddy Campbell. Just when I thought my week couldn't get worse, right?

Anyway, I'll give you the abridged version of the boring stuff—which actually lasted for the next day or so.

We went to the compound, Dean and Christian had a testosterone-filled, undercover-demon-versus-human stare down, Cas soul-searched Big Daddy, found him completely normal—aside from being a total dick—and then the always-on-top-of-things Mr. Dean Winchester talked me into joining up with my favorite people on Earth on a hunt for the alpha vamp.

So, now, not only did I have to make sure I didn't get ripped apart by the father of all bloodsuckers, but I also had to watch Christian in case he decided to murder everyone and keep an eye on Big Daddy Campbell in case he decided that I was more trouble than I'm worth.

Oh, the joys of hunting with the Winchesters.

Now to the exciting part.

It would've been a hell of a lot more exciting if I had actually been allowed to participate in the hunt, but _no_, Dean and I were stuck outside the gates of the alpha's freaking mansion with Gwen—not that I have anything against Gwen. I was just a little bitter, and she happened to be an outlet on which I could focus my annoyance.

Okay, okay, really. Exciting part.

Dean decided it'd be cool to go look around, despite Samuel's orders, and he left me to distract Gwen. We had a little small talk, then saved Dean's ass from a straggler, then waited until Samuel came out and told us he'd burned the house to a crisp, and, if we wanted to pay our respects, we should "bring marshmallows."

You'd think with his sense of humor, he'd be an alright guy, wouldn't you?

Yeah… Well, once we got back in the car, we had a traditional Winchester one-on-one conversation, which I was the third wheel to, as usual.

"Things go okay back there?" Dean asked, using his _I'm gonna act like nothing's wrong, when actually I kinda wanna punch you in the face_ voice.

_Oh, boy,_ I thought. _Here we go._

"Fine," Sam said nonchalantly.

"Nothing weird?" Sam shrugged, and Dean narrowed his eyes. "I saw you walk that alpha out the door, Sam. Now, call me crazy... But that seems weird."

Sam sighed, knowing he'd been caught. "Oh."

"'Oh?'" Dean repeated expectantly.

"You weren't supposed to know about that." _That's not suspicious at all…_

"Know what?"

"It's just something Samuel's been doing. Catching things, taking them somewhere, grilling them for info." He said it as if it was no big deal, but of course it was.

"Grill. Torture, right? And not telling me—that was his idea?"

"No, it was mine." _Oh, really? Shocker._

"Why?" Dean asked, surprise coloring his deep voice.

"Honestly?" Sam said, shooting his brother a sideways glance. "'Cause you'd mess it up. You shoot first, ask questions later, and we needed to ask questions."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say, and I figured even Soulless Sam would know that.

"Y'know, I—I don't care if you've got soullessness or the freakin' mumps, man—you know better than this!" Dean exclaimed. "Do you even _want_ your soul back?"

"How does that have anything to do—?"

"Have you been to the place where Samuel takes them?" Dean interrupted, suddenly changing topics. I mean, have you been in on these interrogations?"

"No, but I hear—"

"And why? And did it ever occur to you that this is _really_ shady?"

"He's our grandfather," Sam said, as if that made the man automatically trustworthy.

"Yeah. Yeah, a guy who talks a great game," Dean said, nodding his head. "But you can't assume that family means the same thing to him as it does to us. He's not Dad." Sam just stared at him blankly. "Wow. You don't see it, do you?"

"What?" the younger Winchester asked confusedly.

"You've got no instinct." Dean scoffed. "I mean, you are seriously messed up." I knew what he meant. Old Sam, regardless of the fact that Samuel was family, would still have been totally suspicious. It was like Soulless Sam's moral compass was wonky or something.

"Thanks," Sam said sarcastically.

"I'm not kidding, man," Dean continued. "Nobody's forcing you to work with me, okay? But if we do this... I drive the bus, I call the shots, and you tell me everything, whether you think it's important or not, because—trust me—you can't tell the difference. Or, you know what, go—go with Samuel. See how that goes. It's up to you."

_Yeah, give the soulless psychopath the choice that could fuck up everything. Smart, Dean. _Real _smart._

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Turns out Sam actually did the right thing.

He went to the compound, talked to Samuel, and tried to join up with them. He played the whole "separate ways" card, saying he and Dean were just too different now or some other random bullshit. When Big Daddy turned him down, he came back and informed us that he oh, so carefully turned on the GPS in Samuel's cell phone.

Okay, more exciting stuff.

We followed the GPS to a shady-looking warehouse that was locked down with "vamp repellent," as Dean called it—dead man's blood. Once inside, we eavesdropped on Samuel's conversation with the alpha vamp.

He had the monster strapped to a chair in a big cage, and nails hooked to wires were shoved through the vamp's hands and feet. The way the monster sat there, looking totally at ease and slightly amused, made me feel like he was exactly where he wanted to be. And that's not a very comforting thought.

"Where is it?" Samuel growled. "Answer the question. Where is it? How do we find it?"

The vampire stared back at Samuel, a slight smile on his face as he watched the older hunter fume. Samuel flipped a switch or something and sent electricity running through the wires and into the alpha's body.

"Ouch. Stop. That hurts," he said, his smile growing.

Samuel made a low, frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "This—this is Club Med compared to what we have planned for you. I got all the time in the world."

"Well, that makes two of us." Samuel must have stormed out, for he said nothing else. The vampire laughed. Then, suddenly, he said, "Are you three going to hide all night? Come on out, children." The three of us shared paranoid looks, then cautiously entered the room. "How can I help you?" he asked pleasantly.

Of course, Dean was the first to speak. He did that thing he always does when he's scared—talks all big and tough. "We got some questions for you, skippy, since you're going nowhere fast."

The alpha chuckled. "Don't be so sure."

"Yeah? Locked down pretty tight. And with all that dead blood rushing through your veins, not sure you got enough juice to fire up that psychic bat-signal of yours, do you?"

"True," he admitted. "Not near enough juice for that... Dean."

That obviously shook the older Winchester, and it made me nervous, too. "I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis," he said, trying to keep up the tough act.

"Of course we are. After all, you were my child... for a time. Dean, tell me... did you enjoy it?"

"I'm asking the questions here, Fright Night!" I almost laughed at that. Good old Dean, always mocking the things that could kill him in a heartbeat.

He clicked the electricity up a notch, and the alpha laughed. "When your kind first huddled around the fire, I was the thing in the dark! Now you think you can hurt me? I have all night, boys. Anyway, I'm happy to tell you whatever you want to know."

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"Why? Because soon, I'll be ankle-deep in your blood, sucking the marrow from your bones." _Ew. Okay._

"So you're really it," Sam said. "The first of your species."

"The very first."

"But if you're the first... who made you?"

"We all have our mothers. Even me."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, sounding very annoyed. "And what's with the big surge of vamps lately? I mean, it's like—"

"Like we're going to war." The alpha grinned, and it sent shivers down my spine.

"Why?" Sam asked. "What's going on? Why did Samuel bring you here?"

The vamp inhaled softly, then smiled at Sam. "You smell cold. You have no soul. What an oddity. Do you feel how empty you are? What is it like to have no soul?" Sam stared back at him emotionlessly. "Answer my question," the alpha demanded.

"You first. You're the one in the cage."

"The thing about souls—if you've got one, of course—is they're predictable," the vampire said conversationally. "You die, you go up or down. Where do my kind go?"

Suddenly, it hit me. "Purgatory," I said quietly.

"What was that, witch?" the vampire asked.

"Purgatory," I repeated, louder this time. "But why's Samuel looking for Purgatory?"

The alpha smiled at me, his eyes lighting up. "You're quite clever. I'm sure you're a great addition to this little team." I raised my eyebrows expectantly, and the vamp sighed. "I keep telling him—how would I know such a thing? But he refuses to untie me."

"But you _do _know where it is. Why does Samuel care?"

"He doesn't care. He does as he is told."

"Well, if the old man's Kermit... whose hand's up his ass?" _How very eloquent of you, Dean._

Just then, a gun cocked. "Evening, guys," Samuel said.

While the others went out of the room to have their family meeting, I decided to stay inside and talk to the alpha. I was kind of tired of being the third wheel in every situation.

As soon as we were alone, the alpha said, "You smell different, too. Like a demon. Are you one of Azazel's?"

I didn't question how he knew, and I knew it would be no use denying it. "Crowley's," I corrected.

"Ah, yes. His scent is slightly more… refined." He smirked. "But you also smell like fresh blood. You're powering up, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, so?"

"And you can't stop now, can you?" he continued. "It's addicting. You're practically one of us."

That did it.

"That's a lie!" I yelped.

"Oh, really? Don't say you haven't thought of it that way. Don't say you don't _loathe _what you've become. I can see it in your eyes."

In my anger, I failed to notice the alpha using his creepily long fingernails to scratch through the straps tying him to the chair. By the time I _did _notice, it was too late.

The alpha pinned me against the wall, baring his fangs at my throat. "Pity your blood is tainted," he said casually. "You would have made an excellent child."

I had just enough time to call for help before he slammed my head against the wall and everything went black.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I missed _a lot _when I was out.

Apparently, Samuel had been working for Crowley, who wanted Purgatory for its large amount of souls. Souls are raw power, power that Crowley desperately wanted.

And now _we _were working for Crowley. The boys told me that he'd threatened to throw Sam back in the Cage if we didn't cooperate, and if we did, he'd give Sam his soul back.

There was also the troubling fact that the alpha had spared my life. Sure, he gave me a pretty nasty bump on the head, but I was _alive. _I figured that, since he probably felt a little animosity toward Crowley now, he would've killed me with no hesitation. I was, after all, "Crowley's protégée." So why the hell was I still walking and talking?

On the bright side, everyone had found out that Christian was a demon when Crowley and his goons appeared to take the alpha away. It was one less thing I had to worry about.

All in all, it was a _terrible _week.

But the worst was yet to come.

**Yeah, another cliffhanger. Sorry. I've been doing those a lot lately…**

**OH. DOES ANYONE BESIDES HEADSTUCKINTHECLOUDS WATCH REVOLUTION? THE NEWEST EPISODE HAD COLIN FORD ON IT! HE WAS SO TALL AND TAN AND MUSCULAR AND HIS VOICE CHANGED! HE'S FUCKING SEXY NOW! OUR BABY SAM IS ALL GROWN UP!**

**Anyway, I'll check over this for errors tomorrow. It is bedtime, and I am sleepy.**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	12. I'll Pretend My Ship's Not Sinking

**Please don't kill me! *cowers in fear* I feel TERRIBLE about ditching you guys! Especially when we're so close to getting Sammy's soul back! Just one more chapter after this!**

**I was gonna try to have this up yesterday, but since Argentum is broken and on back order and I'm having to share one laptop with the entire family, computer time is kinda limited. And then I was gonna wait until tomorrow to upload it so I could talk about tonight's episode, but I just couldn't do that to you guys.**

**BUT SIRIUSLY. CAS IS GONNA TRY TO BE A HUNTER TONIGHT. OH, LAWDY.**

**Anyway, the beginning of this makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I realized I do kinda enjoy making my characters happy sometimes.**

**So ENJOY!**

I was beginning to see why Sam and Ella liked the thought of being normal so much. It was refreshing not to have to watch my back all the time. The whole week, I had been spending time with Ella, the girls, and the babies. I was actually getting pretty used to taking care of Sami and Johnny. Sure, I still freaked out about dirty diapers, but otherwise, I was completely comfortable.

I couldn't help but think how easy everything would be if I had a normal life, but I knew that I could never be normal. Besides my current predicament of being addicted to demon blood, I was a hunter by nature. Hunting was a part of me. Even if I _did_ settle down one day, I'd still be paranoid. I'd never really let myself relax, and I'd always be afraid of what might happen to those around me.

I managed to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and just enjoy the time I was spending with Ella—at least, until she brought it up herself.

We were lounging on the couch, watching some show called _Dr. Sexy, M. D._ Apparently, it was one of Dean's guilty pleasures. I didn't really get it. The dude wore cowboy boots with his scrubs, and he banged every single female in the vicinity at least five times. And, somehow, the girls never got jealous or angry.

…On second thought, I _totally _understood why it appealed to Dean.

"So, really, what's with the cowboy boots?" I asked Ella as I repositioned myself. I had been holding a sleeping Sami for the past hour, and my arms were starting to fall asleep.

"Accordin' to Dean, they're what make him sexy," she replied with a shrug. "I get where he's comin' from. There's just somethin' about a pair of cowboy boots."

"Alright, Little Miss Redneck, that's enough time spent in Abbeville for you. You're starting to go native again."

"Shush," she giggled. "I never _stopped _bein' native. You can take the girl outta the honky-tonk, but ya can't take the honky-tonk outta the girl."

"That sounds like a country song," I mused. "Is that a country song?"

"Damn straight! Brooks & Dunn, girl!"

"You're insane," I laughed, shaking my head.

She shrugged. "Yeah, but it's fun, ain't it?"

"Yeah, sure." I smiled at her and turned back to the TV.

"Okay, I've seen this episode about twenty times," Ella complained. "I gotta change it." I nodded in agreement. The weird, sappy background music and the overdramatic acting were really getting on my nerves. I felt like I was going to have to start addressing everyone as "doctor," or else I'd be totally ignored. That _definitely _wasn't how a normal hospital worked.

"Oooh, stop there!" I yelped suddenly. "_Gilmore Girls_!"

Ella obeyed, grinning widely at my enthusiasm. "I haven't watched this in _ages_," she said. "Remember when we used to watch it every single day?"

"How could I forget? Lorelei got me obsessed with coffee!" We laughed and fell into a comfortable silence. "Oh, dude, this is one of the first season episodes! We get Rory and Dean!"

"I think this is the one with the car!" she said excitedly.

"And then Rory has to go and fuck it up by not telling him she loves him! How could she _not _love him? He's the sweetest, cutest, most perfect TV-boyfriend _ever_!"

"Ugh, I know! Hey, did ya ever notice that Dean looks kinda like Sam?" she asked curiously. "Wow. That sounded funny."

"Dean does _not _look like Sam!" I protested. "I would've noticed that by—" Just then, the camera did a close up of Dean, and he was regarding us with this heartbroken, puppy-eyed expression. "Oh, my gods!" I shrieked disbelievingly. "He _does _look like Sam!"

"Maybe _that's _why ya liked Sam so much!" Ella guessed. "He reminded ya of Dean, who ya used to be in love with!"

"Shut up, that's not the reason!"

"But what if ya thought that subconsciously?" she pressed. "I mean, Dean's super sweet, Sam's super sweet—well, _was_—Dean's got adorable puppy eyes, Sam's got adorable puppy eyes—uh, _had_—Dean's perfect, and Sam _used _to be perfect! It makes sense!"

"Can we change the subject now?" I said moodily. "I don't wanna consider the possibility that I fell in love with Sam 'cause he reminded me of a TV character."

"Ha, alright, fine," she relented, giving me a wry grin. "But you're not gonna stop thinkin' about it now, are ya?"

"No…" I sighed in defeat. She giggled again, and I very maturely stuck out my tongue at her. I started watching the show again, smiling at Luke and Lorelei's banter. They really were perfect for each other.

"Hey, Gari?" Ella asked suddenly.

"Yeah, Elle?"

"If you could be normal, y'know, no huntin' or anythin', would ya do it?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm bein' serious. Like, ya can give up your powers and everythin'. Would ya want a normal life?"

I bit my lip. "I dunno, Elle," I answered honestly. "If you'd asked me that when I was younger, before I got so involved in the business, then the answer would be yes. But now… hunting is a part of me. A hunter is who I am—and a demon witch. Even if I could give up my powers, I'd still be a hunter. There's really no getting out of the life, is there?"

"But if ya _could _get outta the life," she persisted. "What then?"

I thought for a moment, wondering if I should really tell her the truth. I'd always acted like I could never imagine a life that didn't involve hunting—and for a while, I couldn't. But once Ella got out, something changed. The more time I spent with her, the more I yearned to be in her place. "Yeah, Elle," I said finally. "Yeah, I'd be normal. I'd have a house, and a husband, and kids. Hell, I'd even take a minivan if I had to. I just… I know I _can't _be normal. It's just not possible."

"It could be," she said. "I mean, what's stoppin' ya? I did it. I got out. And I can't even remember the last time I was this happy. I get _bored_, Gari. _Bored. _And I _love _it. It's so awesome to actually _not _have somethin' to gank every day. I mean, yeah, Dean's gone a lot more than he used to be, but now I have you, too, and I couldn't be happier." I stared at her, shock at her confession rendering me speechless. "Well?" she said expectantly. "Ya gonna judge me for it or what?"

"No, no, Elle," I replied, shaking my head. "I'm not judging you. I'm… I'm _jealous _of you. You've got everything—a cute little house, two beautiful kids, and you and Dean may as well be married. And he's amazing, and he treats you right, even if he's rarely home anymore. You've got everything I've ever wanted."

"Why didn't ya ever tell me about any of this? I mean, you're my sister, Gari. And ya knew how much I wanted to get out, but I never knew you did, too. We coulda done it together a long time ago."

"I know. I'm sorry." Sami cooed softly in her sleep, and I smiled down at her. "I still can't get over how beautiful they are," I said.

"You could have some of your own, y'know," Ella replied with a grin.

"Nah, I don't think so. I would be a _terrible _parent." I didn't want to voice my worst fear about having kids. More than my fear of being a terrible parent or raising kids up in our fucked up world, I was terrified that, somehow, the demon blood and the witchy powers would be passed on. I couldn't curse my own children with that burden. It had given me enough trouble, and I couldn't lay that on my kids.

"Well, what about gettin' married?" she asked. "Ya can't say ya'd be a terrible wife. Ya stayed faithful to Sam even when he was _dead_. And you're _still _faithful to him. That's gotta count for somethin', right?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, don't think I haven't considered it. But seeing how Sam is now... He has no soul. And he's stopped pretending to care about me since we've discovered this. Unless we can find some way to fix him, Sam and I are over." As I said the words, pain shot through my heart. I was finally admitting it. The man I loved was gone. And he might never come back. "But… but what about you?" I asked, trying to take the focus off me. "You and Dean may as well be married. You live together, and you had his babies, so why not make it official? I mean, you guys had to have at least talked about it."

Ella stared at the sleeping baby in her arms. Johnny hadn't moved at all since we'd sat down. "We… we _have_ talked about it," she said hesitantly.

"_And_?"

"And it's just too unpredictable. I mean, he could die any day, and really, so could I."

"So, what, you don't wanna be tied down?" I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. That didn't seem like a very Ella thought process.

"No, no, it's not that!" she said hurriedly, shaking her head. "It's Dean, really. He has this stupid thing about marriage. I think he's still scared of commitment, even though we've been together for almost two years. I can't see myself with anyone else, and he said the same thing, but he doesn't wanna get married. I think his fear has just been a part of him for too long, and he's too scared to do somethin' about it. I keep bringin' it up, but he keeps shuttin' me down. I guess I should just let it drop."

"He'll come around eventually, Elle," I assured her. "You've just gotta lay it out for him. Tell him you wanna get married. You know he'll do anything to make you happy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll talk to him about it."

"I'm always right, remember?" I teased. "Or have we been apart for so long that you've forgotten?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but just then, her cell phone rang.

"_Straight up, now, tell me, do ya really wanna love me forever? Oh, oh, oh! Or am I caught in a hit and run? Straight up, now, tell me, is it gonna be you and me together? Oh, oh, oh! Or are you just havin' fun?_"

"Really, Elle?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in disbelief. "You _still _have that same ring tone?"

She stuck her tongue out at me before answering her phone. "Hello?" Her face broke into a wide grin. "Dean! Hey, baby! Yeah, I'm fine. Gari and I are just catchin' up. She's gettin' to be real good with the kids." She frowned a little. "Oh, uh, sure. Here she is." She handed me the phone and pushed out her bottom lip into a small pout. "He wants to talk to ya."

"Dean?" I said questioningly. "If you called to talk to me, why didn't you just call my phone?"

"I had to check on Ella, too," he replied. "Look, we kinda need your help."

"Okay, where are you?"

"Evergreen, Missouri."

"Alright, what's so difficult that you need my help?"

"You _can't _react to what I'm about to say," he warned. "Don't let Ella know we're doing this."

"Okay…" I said slowly. Ella raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged.

"We're goin' after Crowley," Dean said. "We've got help, and we're ready to take this son of a bitch down. Besides wanting back up, I kinda figured you'd be willing to gank his ass once and for all."

I stifled a gasp. "Yeah, sure, I'd love to," I said nonchalantly. My mind was racing_. This could be it. We could kill Crowley. Maybe, when he dies, my powers will stop. Maybe I can be normal after all. Then all we'll have to do is get Sam's soul back, and the four of us can be happy again._

_What, you think that killing Crowley is going to change anything?_ the voice said mockingly, and I flinched internally at its sudden presence. _I say again: you're pathetic._

"Alright, well, hurry up and get here," Dean urged. "We're heading out as soon as you do. And Gari?"

"Yeah?"

"_Please _don't tell Ella."

"You got it, dude," I replied. "See you soon."

"What's goin' on?" Ella asked as I hung up the phone and handed it back to her.

"They're hunting some random spirit, and Dean decided to see if I wanted to tag along," I lied smoothly, though my mind was burdened with guilt. _Ugh, I really wish I didn't have to lie to her._ But I knew where Dean was coming from. If we told Ella what we were doing, she would freak out and want to come with us. We couldn't put her in danger.

"So when're ya headin' out?"

"As soon as I get packed."

"You're leaving _now_?" she said plaintively.

I stood up slowly, trying not to jostle Sami. "I have to, babe. I'll be back soon, I promise. And I'll bring Dean with me, and you two can talk about this whole marriage thing, okay?"

She rose to her feet and took the baby from me. "Yeah, okay," she sighed.

"Seriously, Elle. Don't worry. I'll see you soon."

I grinned at her and went to get my things, all the while thinking that I could be lying to her about that, too. Crowley wasn't someone to be trifled with. He was the King of Hell now, meaning he was even more powerful than before. We could be headed to our deaths.

But my worry about that was diminished by my eagerness to kill him, and by the possibility of being normal. I'd risk my life for that chance a thousand times over.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I got to the meeting place just in time for some demons to appear. I jumped out of my car and moved swiftly towards the demons, holding my hand out at the nearest one and causing him to cough up black smoke.

"What the _fuck_?" one of them exclaimed. It had the guise of a moderately pretty brunette girl, and something told me that she was the leader. "Winchester, get out here!" she called toward the house.

"What, Meg?" Dean asked irritably as he came down the porch steps. "What—?" He stopped as he saw me. "Whoa, Gari, chill. They're on our side. More or less."

"Um, you failed to mention that," I said, raising my eyebrows in confusion. Still, I released my hold on the demon. "You should've told me about that."

"Sorry, it's not really the most important part of the mission," he replied scathingly.

I crossed my arms in annoyance. "Yeah, well, it's still kinda important, especially to someone who can kill demons with her _mind_."

The leader, Meg, laughed. "She's got a point. See, if she'd attacked me, the whole deal would be off."

"Shut up, Meg," Dean snapped.

Just then, Castiel and Sam joined us in the yard. "Garideth," Cas acknowledged, giving me a small nod.

"Hey, Cas," I said kindly, smiling at the angel. My smile faded as I looked at the younger Winchester. "Sam," I said dully. He smirked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Remember me?" Meg piped up with a sly grin, addressing Castiel. "I sure remember you, Clarence."

Castiel glowered at her. "Why are we working with these _abominations_?" he asked Dean.

"Keep talking dirty. Makes my meat suit all dewy." The demon winked at the angel, who made a face of pure disgust.

"Alright, simmer down," Dean said, shaking his head. "We know where Crowley is," he told Meg.

"Great. Do tell."

"Yeah, tell you, so you can just leave us for dead," Sam snapped sarcastically.

Meg raised an eyebrow. "You boys have serious abandonment issues, you know that?"

"We'll show you, alright? But we're all going together."

"What, I'm just supposed to trust you?"

"No, you're not that stupid," Sam said, and Meg grinned. His eyes darted to the group of demons behind her. "Give me the knife for a minute."

"No, I'm not that stupid," she said wryly.

"Do you want us to take you to Crowley or not?" With a sigh, Meg handed over the demon-killing knife. Sam stepped forward and drove it into the stomach of a demon that had been glaring intensely at Dean. Meg opened her mouth angrily, but Sam cut her off. "You saw him. He was more interested in killing us than getting the job done. I just did all of us a favor."

She relaxed slightly, then tensed up again when he slid the knife into his waistband. "Hey!" she exclaimed indignantly. "You just gonna keep that?"

"You took this from us," he replied coolly. "I'm taking it back. We leave in one hour."

_Oh, this is going to be fun,_ I thought as I followed the Winchesters and Cas back into the house. I decided to stick with Dean and Cas as they headed into one of the rooms near the front of the house. Sam continued past us to the back.

"Okay, so what's going on here?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms expectantly. "Why are we going after Crowley, and why are we getting help from demons?"

Dean sighed as he started piling weapons into a bag. "Meg wants revenge on Crowley, and we think Crowley can get Sam's soul back. Meg's good at torture." As he said this, his voice turned bitter. I wondered what was going through his head, but I knew him well enough that it wouldn't help to ask. "If anyone can get the information out of Crowley, it's her."

"And you really think this will work?" I asked skeptically.

"It's the best shot we've got." Dean glanced at Cas, who was watching him with a very troubled expression. "Dude, what's with the staring?"

"I'm ambivalent about what we're attempting," the angel admitted.

"I'm with you there, Feathers," I said, nodding my head. Cas shot me an irritated look, and I grinned innocently.

"Well, breaking into monster Gitmo is not exactly a two-for-one in the champagne room," Dean said with a shrug. I could tell instantly that that hadn't been what Castiel was talking about, and I could also tell that he had absolutely no clue what Dean had just said.

"I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise," Castiel tried again.

This got both of our attentions.

"Wait, what?" Dean said sharply.

"_Why_?" I asked, my tone becoming slightly panicked.

"I want him to survive," the angel said cryptically.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Sam's soul has been locked in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for more than a year. And they have nothing to do but take their frustrations out on him," Castiel explained slowly. "Do you understand? If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet, we have no idea what will happen. It could be catastrophic."

"You mean he dies."

Cas shook his head. "I mean he doesn't. Paralysis. Insanity. Psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life."

"But you're saying you don't know anything for sure," Dean said hopefully. "I mean, he could be fine."

"He could be, yes," Cas said, but I could tell he didn't believe it. _We never considered this. We thought everything would be okay. But… but what if it isn't?_

"Okay then." Dean nodded, sounding satisfied.

"But I sincerely doubt it."

"But you'd know how to fix him, right, Cas?" I asked, looking for reassurance.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Then you figure it out, Cas," Dean said sternly. "C'mon! I mean, the guy's a frigging replicant. He needs his soul. Look, we get it back. And if there are complications, then we'll figure out a way to deal with those, too."

"Of course." Dean turned away, obviously thinking he had won the argument. "Or we fail, and Sam suffers horrifically," the angel said seriously.

"Dean, maybe we should think about this…" I began unsurely.

"No!" Dean snapped at me. "Gari, you said it yourself that he's not Sam. If there's even the smallest chance we can get him back, don't you wanna take it?"

"Dean, you know I do. But what if we lose him for good?"

"I'm not gonna let that stop me," he said stubbornly. "I'm gettin' my brother back, no matter what. Are you with me?"

I bit my lip, then nodded slowly. "I'm with you," I agreed, though I couldn't help but wonder if I was going to regret it.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Dean referred to the building as "Crowley's monster prison," and, since we had no better name for it, that's what it became. _I like it. Short, simple, and to the point._ We stood outside, staring at it warily. "Seems pretty quiet," Dean said, though his voice came out in a sort of whisper.

"It's not," Castiel said simply. "I can feel it. Meet me at the side door." The angel disappeared, and we walked around to the side entrance.

Meg eyed me curiously. "So what's your deal? You screwin' Dean or Sammy?"

"Sam," I corrected automatically, not thinking of the double meaning at the time. I blushed furiously. "Uh, I mean… He's not Sammy. He's Sam."

"Yeah, sure, okay," Meg said, winking at me knowingly.

I sighed. "Alright, fine. Yeah, I was with Sam," I admitted bitterly. "Keyword: _was_."

"Okay, I'm listening," she said interestedly.

"It's complicated, and I'm not gonna spill my guts to the very thing I'm specifically equipped to kill." I glowered at the demon, who just shrugged indifferently.

"Whatever you say," she told me with a secretive grin. _Dude, she has a grin for every emotion. _"But if ya ever feel like sharing, well, I'm all ears, witch."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied sarcastically.

Just then, Castiel opened the side door, hurriedly ushering us inside.

"This all seem a little too easy for you?" Dean asked quietly.

"Way too easy," Sam agreed.

The walls of Crowley's monster prison were lined with cells—some empty, some occupied, some covered in the blood and guts of their last occupants. A scared, female voice called out plaintively, "Is someone there? Please. Please help me." As we walked down the hall, I peered into one of the cells and found the culprit. It was one of the djinn that had attacked Dean. She saw me and lunged toward the bars of her cell, terrified tears streaming down her face. "You gotta get me outta here. Please! You gotta get me outta here."

Sam nudged me from behind, saying, "Come on. We gotta move."

We walked down the hall and exited into another one. This one had no cells; it was long, white, and forebodingly barren.

Castiel and I froze simultaneously at the sound of barking dogs.

"Wait," the angel said darkly.

"What is it?" Dean asked urgently.

I tensed up again as the barking got louder. "Hellhounds," I muttered. "_Fuck_."

Meg groaned. "Damn it. Here come the guards."

"Go!" Dean yelled, and we ran for the doors at the far end of the hall.

He and I slammed the doors and wedged them shut with a piece of wood lying on the ground. Sam hurriedly laid down a salt line, and we all leaned against the doors to hold them. I looked around, noticing we were missing some people, then realized that Meg's two demon buddies were gone. I heard screams, and I knew they were as good as dead.

"I knew this was a trap," Dean huffed, resting his head against the door.

Meg glared at him. "What d'you want, a cupcake?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam cut in. "Alright, that should keep them out."

"Got any goofer dust?" I asked him skeptically. He shook his head. "Then not for long."

"How many of them are there?" Dean asked.

"Lots," Meg said, smirking for some odd reason. "I'll be pulling for you… from Cleveland."

"_What_?" Dean yelped. _Nuh-_uh_. There is no fucking way she's leaving us here. _I lifted my hand slightly, ready to stop her if she tried to smoke out.

"I didn't know this was gonna happen." The demon shrugged. "Bright side: them chewing up my meat suit oughta buy you a few seconds. Seacrest out." She smirked at us briefly, then opened her mouth to the ceiling.

Nothing happened, and I laughed mockingly, unable to help myself.

She closed her mouth confusedly as Castiel said, "A spell, I think, from Crowley. Within these walls you're locked inside your body."

"Karma's a bitch, bitch," Dean snapped at her triumphantly. Sam pulled out the demon-killing knife, and Dean stared at him incredulously. "What're you doing? Gonna slash at thin air until you hit something?"

Sam turned to Meg and offered her the knife. "You can see them. Take this. Hold them off. It's our best shot."

I took it instead. "I'll help her. I can see them, too, remember?"

Meg nodded at me appreciatively, then smirked at the boys. "You kill the smarmy dick. We'll hold off the dogs."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You got one knife between the two of you. How you gonna do that?"

Meg smirked again and suddenly grabbed Castiel by the neck. She pulled him to her and kissed him, and I noticed her hand slide inside his trench coat. She began to pull away, but Cas spun her around and pushed her up against the wall, kissing her back fiercely.

They broke apart after a minute, both breathing hard. "What was _that_?" Meg panted disbelievingly.

Castiel shrugged, staring at her evenly. "I learned that from the pizza man," he said, his voice completely emotionless as always. I got the feeling I was missing out on some kind of joke, especially by the look on Dean's face.

"Well, A-plus for you," Meg said with a nod. She frowned, looking down at herself as if she expected to look different. "I feel so… clean." She held up her hand, showing us an angel blade. _Oh, so _that's _what she took from Cas… _"Okay, gotta go."

Dean regarded her with wide eyes. "Whoa, whoa, is that gonna work on a hellhound?"

Meg smirked, giving Castiel a sultry look that made _me _feel dirty. "Well, we're about to find out. Run."

"Guys, really, you gotta go," I urged as Dean stared at me worriedly. "Seriously. If this is our only chance to kill Crowley, you have to take it. Kiss the bastard goodbye for me." I grinned at Dean, and he grinned back, then reluctantly took off running with Cas and Sam.

"Why'd you stay behind?" Meg asked. "You're 'specifically equipped to kill me.' Why the hell d'you care?"

"Ha, you think I _care_?" I rolled my eyes. "_Please_. I just wanna see if this knife can kill a hellhound!"

"Well, let's find out." She jerked the doors open, and we were faced with seven disgusting, disfigured dog-like creatures.

"Okay, so that's two for you," I joked, "and five for me."

"Sounds about right," she agreed, and then the dogs were upon us.

The next half hour passed in a mass of blood, swear words, and insanely comfortable banter. We ended up back to back against the last two dogs. These were the biggest ones, obviously the leaders of the pack.

"Oh, goody," I sighed. "We saved the best for last."

"C'mon, don't tell me you're tired already," Meg teased.

"Not at all!"

The dogs lunged at us, and for the next five minutes, I swore that I was going to die. I ended up on the ground with the biggest one slobbering and growling in my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and flinched away, trying not to inhale in the putrid stink of its breath.

Suddenly, it collapsed on top of me. I let out a loud, "Oof!" as the air left my body. I shoved the hellhound off me, then laid my head back on the filthy ground in exhaustion and relief.

Meg stared down at me, that same smirk on her face, and she extended her hand. "C'mon, demon witch. Let's go save your Winchesters."

I took her hand gratefully, and she pulled me to my feet. "I don't understand," I began. "Why didn't you just let me die?"

"Looks like the girl from Cheboygan I'm riding kinda likes you," she said with a shrug. "Plus, it felt wrong to let you get ripped apart. Call me tender-hearted, but no one should die like that."

I was about to thank her, but then the demon-Christian appeared between us. "Ladies," he said in that oily voice.

I felt a weird tugging behind my belly button—like I was Apparating or something—and I was suddenly alone in a gore-covered padded cell. "Meg?" I called. "Meg!" There was no reply. "Fuck." I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, burying my head in my hands. "Today is just not my day."

While sitting there, my mind was drawn back to Abbeville. Ella was probably sitting on the couch with Dev, Jess, and Emily. They had been planning to come over again soon. I guessed they were watching some movie, trying to get Emily more invested in geek culture. We were planning to start her on _Firefly_, and Devon couldn't wait to introduce her to the magic that is Mal Reynolds.

_Why couldn't that have been my life? Why did I have to end up with a witch for a mother, an abusive asshole for a father, and a psychotic demon for a patron and blood donor? I could be eating dinner with a family of my own, and I could learn how to _cook_, and I could be a good wife. I could be happy._

_But I've gotta be realistic. There's no way I'm getting that life if I sit here moping. I've gotta find a way out. I've gotta find Meg and the boys. They're my top priority right now. Normal comes later._

I got to my feet and pressed on the door experimentally. If I'd been powered up, getting out would've been no problem. Unfortunately, I hadn't had any blood that day—yeah, I know, I'm an idiot—and my flask was in my car back at the house where we met up.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid,_" I huffed, punctuating each word with a hit on the door. It groaned a little in protest, but otherwise didn't budge. "C'mon, open!" I rammed my shoulder against it a few times, but still nothing happened. "What kinda door is this? This is _so _not fair!" I closed my eyes and sighed. "Fuck."

_You can do better than that, _the voice encouraged. _If I've learned anything in our time spent together, it's that you're pretty damn strong for a whiny, pathetic girl._

_Um, thanks?_

I decided to take the voice's advice, and I pressed against the door once again. I took a few steps back, inhaled deeply, and ran at it. It flew open with a loud slam, and I spilled out into the hallway. "Yes!" I yelped happily. _Okay, time to rejoin the group._

I walked through the halls of the prison aimlessly, hoping to find some sign of the Winchesters, or at least of Meg. Creatures called out for help as I passed their cells, and I actually felt bad for them. They didn't deserve this fate, especially when I was sure none of them knew how to get to Purgatory anyway.

Suddenly, I heard yelling. I picked up my pace, sprinting toward the sounds of the struggle. I came into the room just in time for Crowley to break out of a devil's trap and slam the boys against the wall. Meg was lying on the floor, and Castiel was nowhere to be found.

Crowley brushed himself off primly, spinning the demon-killing knife around in his hand. "That's better," he said, smirking at the boys. He looked down at Meg and spat, "You don't _know_ torture, you little _insect_."

I stepped forward, about to come to her defense, when Castiel appeared. "Leave them alone," he growled.

The King of Hell grinned at the angel. "Castiel, haven't seen you all season. You the cavalry now?"

"Put the knife down," Cas ordered. I noticed that he was holding a burlap sack, but since it was half-hidden behind his back, I guessed that Crowley hadn't seen it yet.

"You that bossy in Heaven?" the demon asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Hear you're losing out to Raphael. The whole affair makes Vietnam look like a roller derby." Castiel glowered at him, moving the bag into view. "Hey, what's in the gift bag?"

Castiel fixed the demon with an expression that might have been his form of a grin. He reached into the bag and pulled out an old, filthy skull. _No _way. _He found Crowley's bones?_ "You are," the angel said triumphantly.

I had never seen Crowley with any emotion but contempt. Now, however, his face was full of complete and utter shock. His hold on the Winchesters faltered, and they dropped to the ground. Meg pushed herself to her feet, watching the exchange with detached interest. "_Not possible_," Crowley breathed incredulously.

Castiel's grin-like expression grew. "You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have."

Crowley regained his composure, though I could still detect the slightest bit of fear in his eyes. He clapped mockingly, the smirk back on his face, and said, "Cookie for you."

"Can you restore Sam's soul or not?" Cas asked, getting straight to the point.

"If I could help out in any other—"

"Answer him!" Dean snapped.

Crowley hesitated, eying the skull in Cas's hand. "I can't," he said finally.

The angel nodded, and Crowley's bones caught fire. Flames engulfed the demon himself, and he let out a scream of rage and agony. Then, just like that, he was gone.

Before any of us had time to react, Meg disappeared too. "Well, she's smart, I'll give her that," Dean said. "I was gonna kill her, too." He looked at Cas and wiggled his eyebrows. "'Course, I'd have given you an hour with her first."

Castiel returned the look confusedly. "Why would I want that?"

Dean shook his head in exasperation and opened his mouth, probably to tease the angel some more, but I stepped out of my hiding place. "There you are!" he said, crossing over to me and clapping me on the shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "I got locked in a padded cell and missed out on all the action, but I'm fine." I turned to Castiel. "So… he's really gone?" I asked, and he nodded. "Does that mean my powers will go away?"

"Sam's did," Dean answered. "But then, he just had demon blood. He wasn't part witch, too."

I fell silent as we left Crowley's monster prison. It was daylight outside, and I realized that we'd spent the whole night trying to kill Crowley. _And we finally did it. Well, Cas did it. But we were there, too._

We stopped beside the Impala, and Dean turned to the angel. "Thanks, Cas. Hadn't it been for you—"

"Crowley was right," Castiel interrupted. "It's not going well for me upstairs."

"If there's anything we can do—"

"There isn't," the angel broke in again. "I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time I'd rather be here."

"Look, Cas, we know you got a steaming pile on your plate," Dean said. "There's no need for apologies. We're your friends."

"Yeah, Cas. We've got your back, too," I piped up, grinning at the angel.

He gave us that sort of smile, then turned to the younger Winchester. "Listen, Sam, we'll find another way."

Sam regarded him stonily. "You really wanna help?" he said, a harsh undertone to his voice. "Prison full of monsters. Can't just leave 'em, can't let 'em go."

Castiel seemed slightly offended, but nodded anyway. "I understand," he said, and then he disappeared.

"Way to be thankful," I snapped at Sam. "He only just saved our lives."

Dean stepped in right then, efficiently stopping an argument between Sam and me. "He's right, y'know," he said to his brother.

"About?" Sam asked in the same tone.

"About your soul. We'll figure something else out."

"No, we won't."

"Why, because Crowley said—"

"You _heard_ what Crowley said," Sam cut in. "And I heard what Cas said." _Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._ "Putting this thing back in would smash me to bits."

"We don't know that for sure," Dean tried to reason.

Sam huffed in annoyance. "Y'know what? When angels and demons agree on something, call me nuts, I pay attention."

"You say this _now_? After we practically died trying to—"

"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed. "We almost got ourselves killed. I mean, how many times do we risk our asses for this? Enough's enough."

"Sam—"

"I don't think I want it back."

I glared at him. "Well, that's rough, buddy, because—"

Dean shot me a warning glance, then looked back at his brother. "You don't even know what you're saying."

"_No_, I'm saying something you don't like," Sam contradicted. "You two obviously care, a lot. But I think maybe I'm better off without it."

"You're wrong," Dean argued, shaking his head. "You dunno how wrong you are."

"I'm not sure about that." Sam turned and started to walk away, obviously fed up with the conversation.

"Sam, don't walk away," Dean called angrily. "Sam! _Sam_!"

"Dammit, Sam, fine!" I yelled. "We'll _drop_ it! You can stay soulless and evil _forever_! Just get in the fucking car so we can get outta here!"

The younger Winchester froze and turned around. Both brothers fixed me with identical looks of shock. "You're serious?" Sam asked.

"Does it fucking _matter_?" I raged. "We can't just _force _your soul on you, anyway! It's gotta be your choice, right? I am _sick _of arguing about _everything_! I have had a _terrible _day, and I just wanna get outta here! So get your whiny, stubborn ass in the fucking car and _let's go_!"

Dean stared at me in disbelief, and I knew what he was thinking. I'd talk to him later and tell him that I was totally lying, but for the moment, we just needed Sam to _not _run away. We'd get his soul back, whether he liked it or not. He really didn't have a say in the matter.

**6, 482 words, not counting the author's notes. Wowza. I wrote a LOT for this one!**

**FUCK. I JUST REALIZED WHAT I SAID UP THERE. THE NEXT CHAPTER IS APPOINTMENT IN SAMARRA. SAM GETS HIS SOUL BACK AT THE END OF IT. HOLY HADES. **_**I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED**_**! GARI GETS HER SAMMY BACK!**

**Anyway, review it, lovelies! Dasvidaniya!**


	13. Who'll Have Mercy On Your Soul?

**Heh… Hi, guys… Remember me? Y'know, that girl who writes the Supernatural fanfics? Yeah… let the throwing of virtual rotten tomatoes begin…**

**I am SO sorry! I have no excuse but my own laziness! And you'd think I would've gotten this chapter done a hell of a lot sooner since it's the last chapter with Soulless Sam, but nooo. AH, I just feel so terrible!**

**(On a side note, there are 41 reviews as I post this chapter. That is the same amount of reviews I had when I posted the final chapter of **_**I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away**_**. D'you realize how awesome that is? I'm not even halfway through this story, and I already have as many reviews as my first story did right before the last chapter! Ah! I'm so happy!)**

**But still. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WITH SOULLESS SAM. WHO'S GOT TWO THUMBS AND CAN BARELY CONTAIN HER EXCITEMENT? THIS GIRL!**

**So, yeah. Enjoy!**

_Chinatown? Really? _I thought as Dean and I stared at the run-down, shady-looking grocery store in front of us. He double-checked the piece of paper he was holding, and his shoulders sagged. "Oh, you_ gotta _be kidding me."

"You sure this is the place?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"It's the right address," he said with a shrug.

"Okay… If you're sure." He nodded and walked toward the store. I followed him through the door, making a face as an unpleasant smell assaulted my nose. "Ugh. What's that smell?"

Dean ignored me, instead stepping forward and addressing a Chinese man chopping meat behind the counter. "Hi, I'm, uh, looking for…"

"Follow all the way back," the employee said, pointing with his butcher knife toward a hallway. Dean looked at him uncertainly. "All the way back," the man repeated.

"C'mon," Dean said, and we walked down the hallway. There was a door at the very end, and through that door was a flight of stairs, which led to another hallway full of doors.

An older man with glasses stepped out of one of the doors, and he walked toward us with a smile on his face. "Dean Winchester?" he asked.

"You must be Dr. Robert," Dean said, his voice lilting up at the end, making it sound more like a question. "Um, this is Gari." He gestured to me, and the doctor nodded in acknowledgement. I gave an awkward smile in response, feeling a bit uncomfortable with this whole situation. _Especially _with Dean's plan.

Dr. Robert kept on smiling. "Son, I stitched up your daddy more times than I can count, let me tell you." He grabbed Dean's face with both hands, his grin growing. "Oh, it's good to see you. 'Course, that was ages ago, back when, uh, I still had my medical license." He turned and started walking back through his apartment, beckoning us to follow. "Right this way."

Dean made a face at the state of our surroundings, and I understood completely. It was totally filthy, and I couldn't believe medical procedures took place here. I dreaded to see what the actual apartment looked like. "Well, you know," Dean started, "I'm, uh, I'm no germ freak, but..."

The doctor shrugged. "Rent's cheap." We entered the doctor's apartment, and we were met by a _very _unfriendly-looking gothic girl. "Eva, my assistant," the doctor said, pointing to the girl.

"Hi," Dean said with an uncomfortable grin. Eva glared at him, and I almost laughed. She was probably the only girl I'd ever met who didn't seem totally awestruck by him.

Dr. Robert ignored the awkwardness of the situation. He patted a table and said, "Hop right up!"

Dean swallowed nervously. "N—now, you—you've, uh, done this a lot?"

The doctor nodded eagerly. "Oh, many, _many_ times."

I raised my eyebrows. "And, um, what's your success rate?"

"Oh, excellent—almost 75%." The doctor grinned, as if that was supposed to be reassuring. Dean obviously disagreed, and so did I. "So, should we get the, uh, preliminaries out of the way?"

Dean stared at him in confusion, but then it clicked. "Yeah. Uh, yeah, right." He took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Dr. Robert. He turned to me, not meeting my eye. "Uh… so… listen, if, uh, something..."

"Nothing's gonna go wrong, Dean," I assured him, though I wasn't sure I believed that myself.

"Still. Just in case," he said. "Would you give this to Elle?" He handed me another envelope. "Don't read it, though, okay? You may not like what you see." He gave me that signature cocky grin of his, and I shook my head and laughed.

"Would've thought you had something for your brother, Sam," Dr. Robert said.

Dean sighed. "If I don't make it back, nothing I say is gonna mean a damn thing to him." He got up on the table and lay down. "Gari, you make sure he doesn't hurt anybody, okay?" I nodded. "If I don't make it outta this, you—ah!" He stopped abruptly as Eva jabbed a needle into his arm, and I winced. Needles made me nervous. Hell, anything to do with the medical field made me nervous.

"Don't be a baby," Eva snapped.

"Y'know, a little bedside manner would be nice."

Eva glared at him, looking like she wanted to say something else, but Dr. Robert butted in. "Are we ready? Hmm?" Dean nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. The doctor took a syringe and squirted something into the IV tube as Eva pressed a button on a stopwatch. "You've got three minutes."

"Don't die on me," I told him. He opened his mouth to reply, but then his eyes rolled back in his head, and the heart monitor flat-lined.

"No pulse, no sinus rhythm," Eva said.

Dr. Robert grinned at me. "He's dead."

I felt something brush past me, but, when I turned to look, no one was there. I wondered briefly if I could have felt Dean. "So there's a good chance he'll make it back, right?" I asked nervously.

"Your boyfriend'll be fine," Eva said with a roll of her eyes. "The doc knows what he's doing."

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied automatically. "But still. Seventy-five percent doesn't seem really reassuring."

"Don't worry, dear," Dr. Robert assured me. "If he's anything like his daddy, he'll be just fine."

I figured that was true. John was definitely a fighter, and that was one of the few good traits that the boys had inherited from him. _Dean will be fine. He knows what he's doing. He'll be fine._

I told myself the same thing for the next two minutes or so. Then Dr. Robert got out the defibrillators and Eva started counting down. "Four, three, two… now."

Dr. Robert shocked Dean, but nothing happened. "Again," he said, sounding slightly worried, which didn't make me feel too good.

Eva and the doctor repeated the same pattern for the next two or three minutes, and it still wasn't working. I was growing increasingly scared, and I chewed my lip nervously. "C'mon, Dean," I whispered urgently.

"Eva, adrenaline!" Dr. Robert ordered, and Eva stabbed Dean with an adrenaline shot.

Dean gasped awake, breathing hard and sweating. I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God," I breathed.

"Oh, thank Moses," Dr. Robert said with a grin.

"You couldn't have given me five more seconds?" Dean snapped, looking exhausted.

"Dude, you were out seven whole minutes!" I replied agitatedly. "We almost lost you!"

"I was?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Mhm," Dr. Robert said. "I thought for sure Death had you by the twins."

"Can we go home now?" I asked Dean, running a hand through my short hair and trying not to let my overwhelming relief show.

"Sounds like a plan," Dean agreed.

"It was good finally meetin' you, kid," Dr. Robert said, patting Dean on the back.

Dean grinned awkwardly. "Yeah, you too."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"You _what_?" Sam exclaimed disbelievingly.

I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation. But, really, what did Dean expect the reaction to his crazy plan would be? If he'd been proposing it to me, I probably would've acted just like Sam.

"Just hear me out," Dean begged.

"I heard Cas and Crowley when they said it would either kill me or turn me to Jello, Dean!" Sam argued. "I heard enough!"

"Death said he can put up a wall," Dean explained, holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

"A wall?"

"Yes, yes, a wall—that—that, basically, you wouldn't remember Hell."

"Really?"

"Really." _Now, tell him the catch, Dean._

"For good?" Sam asked skeptically, the smallest trace of hope in his voice. "Like a cure?"

Dean hesitated. "No, it's not a cure. It… he said it could last a lifetime."

"And this is Death we're talking about," I piped up. "He knows what he's doing."

"Great." Sam said with a roll of his eyes. "So, playing pretty fast and loose with my life here, don't you think?"

"We're trying to _save_ your life!" Dean said desperately.

"Exactly, Dean! It's _my_ life! It's my life, it's my soul! And it sure as hell ain't your head that's gonna explode when this whole scheme of yours goes sideways!"

Dean and I both opened our mouths to reply, but Bobby spoke first. "Just curious. I presume Death's not doin' this outta the goodness of his heart. So what's your half of the deal?" Dean and I glanced at each other briefly, and then stared at the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't get that."

"I have to wear the ring for a day," Dean answered finally.

"Why the hell would he want ya to do that?" Bobby asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Dean shrugged. "Get his rocks off. I don't know. But I'm doing it."

I saw Sam turn towards the door, and I was immediately suspicious. "Where are you going?" I asked.

He froze, obviously unhappy at being caught. He turned around slowly and sighed. "Look, I hear you, alright? I get it. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, alright?"

I looked to Dean, and he nodded. "Don't do anything stupid," I told Sam. He huffed and exited the house. "So… follow him?"

"Yep," Dean replied, already moving to the door.

When we found Sam, he was staring worriedly at a small hole in the ground. "Howdy, partner," I said, and he jumped guiltily and spun around.

"Looking for this?" Dean asked, holding Death's ring in his hand.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "Just taking a walk."

I rolled my eyes, and Dean shook his head. "Sam. I'm your brother. I'm not gonna let you get hurt. I know what I'm doing here."

"What if you're wrong?" Sam asked, actually sounding worried.

"I won't let it go wrong."

"Fine."

"'Fine?'" Dean asked incredulously. "So, you're—"

"So, I'm trusting you here," Sam confirmed with a nod. "Barely."

"You sure?"

"You're the one with the compass, right? Just don't mess it up."

"I won't," Dean promised. Sam nodded again and walked back towards the house.

"Don't worry," I told the older Winchester. "We'll watch him. Just get his soul back, alright?"

"C'mon, don't sound so nervous," Dean said with a grin. "I got this." With that, he slipped Death's ring on his finger and disappeared.

"Well," Bobby started, turning toward the house, "guess we're giantsitting tonight."

I laughed tersely, trying not to let my nervousness show. I didn't believe that Sam was onboard with this one bit, and I knew firsthand what he was capable of. Even with my advanced healing, my shoulder still hurt if I moved it the wrong way. If he would shoot me, of all people, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Hey, there, witchy woman," a dry, sarcastic voice said from behind me.

I jumped, startled, but a small grin appeared on my face when I recognized the voice. "Didn't expect to see you again so soon," I said as I turned around, "especially knowing how the boys feel about you."

Meg smirked at me. "Guess I'm just full of surprises." She looked me up and down appraisingly. "Glad to see Christian didn't tear you apart."

"Yeah, I heard he got you pretty bad," I replied sympathetically.

"Aw, that was nothing. I apprenticed under Alastair down in the Pit. You don't know torture unless you know Alastair."

"Who's Alastair?" I asked curiously. Sam and Dean had mentioned him before, but I had no idea who he was.

"Chief torturer in Hell. He was one of those super special white-eyed demons like Lilith. And, damn, did he have a way with a knife." Meg talked about him reverently, but her smirk faded slightly, as if the memory of this demon disturbed her.

"You said 'was,'" I realized suddenly.

Her smirk grew again. "Yeah, your little boy toy wasted him while he was hyped up on go-juice." Her eyes narrowed knowingly. "Which I hear you're hooked on now."

"Yeah, so?" I snapped defiantly.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just surprised. I mean, I'm sure you know what wittle Sammy went through," she said in a babyish tone. She raised her eyebrows, expectantly waiting for my retort.

"Don't call him Sammy," I said automatically.

"Okay, fine," she said with a grin. "Sam, then. Doesn't change the fact that you're following in his footsteps, _and_ you know exactly where they lead. Either you go darkside, or you end up locked in the old man's demon bunker."

"You think I haven't thought of that?" I said testily. "Hell, it's _all_ I think about."

"You mean _besides _the blood?"

I ignored her remark, instead saying, "I've tried to stop a million times, but I don't have the willpower to force myself through the withdrawals."

"You could always tell the boys," Meg suggested offhandedly. "From what I hear, Sammy—sorry, _Sam_—is _very _forgiving. I'm sure you'd soon be back in his good graces. Now, Dean's another story, but you value _his _opinion significantly less, don't you?"

"Dean's like a brother to me," I contradicted, though even I noticed the lack of conviction in my voice. Besides, I doubted Sam would forgive me so easily. I remembered that brief moment when he thought I had been drinking demon blood, and I remembered the anger and betrayal on his face. It would take him a while to get over it regardless. And he'd never trust me again.

"But Dean's not the love of your life, is he?" she replied, a triumphant note in her always sarcastic tone. "He's not the one who's getting his soul back soon. He's not the reason you started drinking in the first place."

"How'd you know that?" I asked sharply, my voice cracking a little in surprise and embarrassment.

"Demons are notoriously good at reading people," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Especially if those people are part demon themselves. Hell, I'd be a detective if wreaking havoc wasn't so much _fun_."

My shoulders sagged in defeat. "So what am I supposed to do, huh? Go turn myself in and hope they forgive me one day? And Sam, being soulless, will probably kill me on the spot as soon as I 'fess up."

"There is a _third _option," Meg said slowly, her eyes lighting up as a thought entered her head.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked skeptically. "And that would be…?"

"I'll be your supplier," she said simply.

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Come again?"

"It's perfect!" she said, seemingly to herself. "You won't be drinking from me! I can find other demons—it'll give me an even bigger excuse to hunt down all of Crowley's followers. And I'll moderate how much you get, too, so you don't overindulge and you don't have withdrawals. _You _won't be killing people—I will, and that doesn't bother me one bit. And—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted, feeling overwhelmed. "Wait a second. How do I know you won't just be using me like Ruby used Sam?"

"Ruby's whole purpose was to get Sam to kill Lilith," Meg explained. "But Lilith is dead, and, unless there's something I don't know yet—which doesn't happen very often—her death was the only way to raise Lucifer. I mean, I'd bring him back if I could, but I can't, so I'm putting that particular dream behind me. I may be loyal, but I'm not delusional." She grinned, looking proud of herself. "This could really work."

"So why d'you wanna help me? What's in it for you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Why, the pleasure of destroying all Crowley's worked for," she answered with a roll of her eyes, as if it should have been obvious. "Just because the King of Hell's dead doesn't mean his reign of terror's over. Just like Lucifer still has loyalists, Crowley does too. And I plan to hunt every single one of them down and make them beg for mercy like Alastair taught me." She grinned evilly. "Besides, though I'll deny it if you repeat it, I kinda like you, Gari. You've got potential."

"Potential for what?"

"And _that's _the million dollar question," she replied with a secretive smirk.

I fell silent, thinking over her proposal. Her idea made sense, and the more she explained, the more I liked it. I'd no longer have to worry about when I could get my next hit or who I'd have to kill to do so. The boys and Ella wouldn't know what was going on—if I'd kept my addiction a secret for this long, it'd be a piece of cake when I didn't have to worry about finding my own source. And Meg killing off Crowley's goons would be an added bonus.

"If we do this," I said finally, "no one can know. No demon, human, anyone—not even your _pet rock_." She smirked and nodded. "And you better not be stringing me along. I'm gonna need this stuff on a regular basis."

"Gotcha," Meg agreed. "So do we have a deal?" She held her hand out, waiting for me to shake it. I grinned slightly, and, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into, I shook the demon's hand.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

When I came downstairs, Bobby and Sam were playing poker. "Glad you could join us," Bobby said as I dropped down into the chair beside him and propped my feet on the table. "You want in?"

"Nah, I'm good," I replied with a grin. "Poker's not really my thing. I'm more of a Go Fish type of girl."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug as he tossed a few chips to the middle of the table.

I closed my eyes for a minute and sighed contentedly, feeling better than I had in a while. While my deal with Meg should've made me uneasy, I just couldn't help but feel like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. She had promised to bring me my first dose in a couple of days, and I couldn't wait. I still couldn't believe how simple it was going to be to get blood for me now.

"Pair of aces," Sam said, and Bobby huffed agitatedly.

I cracked my eyes open as I heard a chair slide back from the table. "Want another one?" the older man asked, holding out his empty beer bottle.

"Yeah, sure," Sam replied. He glanced at me briefly, something dark flashing in those cold eyes, but it vanished so quickly that I thought I might have imagined it.

_You can't just go with that, _the voice warned me. _If you have any suspicions about him, you'd better _act_!_

I closed my eyes slowly, pretending as though I wasn't totally suspicious of him. _If he does something other than _look_ at me funny, _I retorted sarcastically,_ I'll take precautionary measures._

_It's your funeral_, the voice replied, and I could imagine a person shrugging as it said that.

Suddenly, Sam's chair scooted away from the table, and my eyes popped open just in time to see him towering over me. He grabbed the back of my chair and threw it down with all his might, taking me with it and knocking the air out of my lungs. I tried to warn Bobby, but I couldn't make a sound other than gasping for air.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. Right as Sam raised the wrench in his hand to attack Bobby, the older hunter spun around and hit Sam over the head with a nightstick. "May've been born at night, boy," he said to Sam's unconscious form, "but it wasn't last night." He turned around and looked at me. "Ya okay, kid?" he asked worriedly, and I nodded, still unable to speak. "Good." He turned back around. "Not good," he said.

"W—what's wrong?" I croaked as I pushed myself off the floor.

"He's gone." Bobby gazed around the room warily. "Let's not do anything hasty here, Sam," he called.

"Let's split up and look for him," I suggested, my voice rasping heavily in my throat. "I'll check the basement." Bobby nodded, and we went our separate ways. I pulled the dagger out of my boot and held it tightly in my hand. _Great. This is _exactly _how I wanted to spend my evening._

_Hey, I don't mean to say I told you so, but… _the voice mocked triumphantly. _I told you so._

I rolled my eyes and descended the basement stairs, swallowing uncomfortably as my eyes fell on the panic room. I feared going in there more than anything, and I didn't know what I'd do if that happened to be Sam's hiding spot.

The basement door locked behind me, and I wondered if it was Bobby or Sam who had locked me in. Either way, there was no getting out now.

I wandered around the basement, looking for any sign of Sam. As soon as I came to the conclusion that he wasn't down there with me, a trap door opened almost directly above my head, and Sam came crashing to the ground in front of me. I took a few steps back, unable to hide how scared I was of him.

Once he noticed me, that cruel smirk crossed his face. He grabbed a crowbar off a nearby table, and I held my dagger out in front of me, though my hand was lot less steady than his. As he advanced on me, I knew I wouldn't be capable of doing any real damage. I wasn't as powered up as I usually was, and he had a major height and muscle advantage. Plus, there was the fact that he wouldn't think twice about killing me, whereas I didn't even want to barely nick him with my knife.

"Gari," he said, taking another step toward me.

_Fight him! _the voice ordered me. _Slash him open! Stab him! Knock him out! Do _something_!_

"Sam, wait," I said shakily. "You don't have to do this. We're gonna fix you. Death's gonna fix you. We're not gonna let anything happen to you. _I'm_ not gonna let anything happen to you." I gazed up at him pleadingly, hoping he would change his mind.

"I don't _need _to be fixed," he snarled. "I'm not _broken_." Then, before I had time to react, he raised the crowbar and swung it at my head.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I knew _exactly _where I was without even opening my eyes. The cold metal of the door was pressing into my back, and there was a slightly raised line under my hand. I traced my hand along the line, knowing it was a large devil's trap.

This knowledge didn't make opening my eyes any easier.

There was a ladder lying broken under the vent in the ceiling. The vent had been closed again, and it looked like something was keeping it that way. I knew that was how Sam escaped, and I knew he was making sure I couldn't do the same.

I was in the panic room, and I had no way out.

My head started pounding almost immediately. I got to my feet and faced the door, but a strong, dizzy sensation swept over me, and I stumbled backward to the cot in the center of the room. _No _way _it's affecting me this quickly._ I steadied myself and moved back to the door. The grate had been left open, and I peeked through, looking for any sign of life.

"Bobby?" I called tentatively. "Bobby, are you there?"

No reply.

"Sam?" I tried hesitantly. "Sam, please, let me out. Please."

Still nothing.

"Garideth…" a voice whispered, and I spun around quickly, but I was alone. I bit my lip and swallowed back my fear as I turned to the door again.

"Bobby!" I called, louder this time. "Hello! I'm locked in the panic room! Could you let me out, please?"

"Garideth…" the same voice called again, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. There was something terrifyingly familiar about that voice, and I really didn't want to find out who it belonged to.

"Just when I thought it couldn't get worse," I said to myself. "Now, not only am I hearing voices in my head, but I'm hearing them out loud, too."

_Yes, but that voice isn't real, _the voice in my head said. "_I, on the other hand, am _very _real._

"I'm sure it thinks the same about you," I muttered. Then I raised my voice again, beating against the door. "Bobby! C'mon, I know you're not dead! You're Bobby Singer! There's no _way _some cocky moose got the jump on you! Please, just get me outta here!"

I sighed and rested my head against the door. A wave of nausea started to rise up through my body, but I fought it back. _I _cannot _vomit, _I thought determinedly. _If I vomit, they'll know something's up. I'll never get outta here._

_Why not get it over with? _the voice suggested gleefully. _You're gonna end up here anyway. Not like that deal with Meg's gonna help you much. Why not get a head start on getting clean, Garideth?_

"Garideth…" the other voice sighed again, and a chill ran down my spine, as though someone had just breathed on my neck.

"_Bobby_!" I shrieked, pounding my fists with all my might against the door. It wouldn't budge, but that didn't stop me. "Bobby, _please_! Let me out! Let me _out_!" Hysterical, frantic tears built up in my eyes and flowed down my face, but I didn't care. All I cared about was getting out of that terrible room. "Bobby!" I tried again. "Sam! Dean! Cas! _Anyone!_"

"Gari?" a deep, rough voice called, and I sank to my knees, overcome with relief, after I saw Dean come down the stairs. I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks and prayed that he wouldn't realize I'd been crying. I stood back up and stared out of the grate. I'd never been happier to see someone in my whole life. "You okay?" he asked as he opened the door.

Before I could stop myself, I dashed out of the room, slung my arms around him, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much!" I rushed out.

"Um… for what?" he asked confusedly.

I froze. _What the fuck am I supposed to say? Could I _be _any more obvious?_

"For getting here," I said finally as I pulled away. "I'm assuming you got here in time to stop Sam from doing whatever he was doing?"

"Yeah, I did," Dean nodded.

"What _was_ he doing, exactly?"

"He was gonna kill Bobby. Somethin' about committing patricide for a spell to make his body unable to hold a soul."

"He's really that desperate?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Looks like it." He glanced at the ground dejectedly. "But he's not gonna have to worry about that anymore."

"What d'you mean?"

"I, uh…"

Realization slowly dawned on me. "You messed up, didn't you?" I asked calmly, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "You couldn't do it." He hung his head in shame, and I took that as a yes. I placed my hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, don't worry about it. No one can do that job but Death. That's why he's Death."

"I just ruined our only chance of getting' Sam's soul back, Gari," Dean said angrily, but I knew that anger was directed at himself. "Course I'm gonna worry about it."

"We can find another way," I said reassuringly. "Between me, you, Bobby, and Cas, we can think of something."

He opened his mouth to reply, but just then, Bobby called out, "Little help here! Can't get this overgrown boy down the stairs on my own!"

Dean and I rushed over to the stairs and looked up to see Bobby standing in the basement doorway with an unconscious Sam draped over his shoulders. "I'm guessing you're responsible for that?" I asked Dean, and he nodded.

He went up the stairs to help Bobby carry his brother. "Gari, get the handcuffs ready," he told me. "I don't want him breakin' outta there again."

"Gotcha." I cautiously entered the panic room, wary of hearing that voice again, but nothing happened. I didn't feel anything at all. _Maybe it only works when the door's shut._

Dean and Bobby finally got Sam strapped down to the cot, and they stepped out and closed the door, locking it tight. "We can't keep doin' this," Dean sighed. "I mean, what, are we gonna tie him up every time he tries to kill someone?" He glanced through the grate at his younger brother. "And that's not gonna hold him. I mean, he's—"

"Capable of anything," Bobby finished, and I nodded in agreement.

"What are we supposed to do here?" Dean asked, looking to the older man for some shred of guidance.

Bobby shook his head slowly. "I dunno." Dean sighed again and headed back up the stairs, presumably to get some alcohol, and I started to follow him. Bobby grabbed my arm and said, "Wait. Just let him be alone for a minute."

"You sure that's the best idea?" I asked. I was worried about Dean. Whenever something went wrong, he always blamed himself. And, now he was blaming himself for the demise of his brother. Without a soul, Sam wasn't Sam. If it killed me to look at the younger Winchester and think of how he used to be, I could only imagine what Dean must feel. He had just lost the last chance of getting his little brother back.

"He's not gonna do anything stupid," Bobby promised, though he didn't sound too sure.

"So what are we gonna do, Bobby?" I questioned, hoping the older hunter would have some small answer. "Dean's right—we can't hold him down here forever. And we can't let him go, either. He tried to kill you, and I'm pretty sure he would've killed me if he hadn't been in such a hurry."

"I know. But it's not like we got any options, here. Unless Lucifer and Michael wanna spit Sam's soul out, we got nothin'."

I bit my lip and looked through the grate. While he was unconscious, I could almost see him as my Sam. He looked so peaceful and innocent right then, but I knew that was just an illusion.

"Bobby! Gari!" Dean called suddenly, and he bounded down the stairs. "Open the door!"

"What's going on?" I asked bewilderedly.

"Now!" He pushed past me and opened the panic room door, taking a step back at the sight of a strange man.

"Who—is that _Death_?" I gasped, though I knew the answer to that already.

It seemed that, in all the commotion, Sam had finally woken up. He was struggling furiously against the handcuffs and staring up at Death with a terrified expression. "Get away from me! Don't! _Don't_!"

Death calmly sat down beside him and placed a bag on the cot. "Now, Sam," he said with a voice that sounded as though it had seen all the horrors of the world. I then realized that this _was _Death—he'd been there for everything. "I'm going to put up a barrier inside your mind."

"No, don't touch me!" Sam yelped.

Death continued as if Sam had never spoken. "It might feel a little… itchy. Do me a favor—_don't _scratch the wall. Trust me—you're not going to like what happens."

Sam stared at his brother, his eyes wide with fear. "Please. Don't do this," he begged desperately. Dean clenched his jaw and returned his brother's gaze emotionlessly. Death took a brightly glowing object out of the bag and moved toward Sam. _Is that… Sam's _soul_? _Sam eyed the object with absolute terror, and, once again, I asked myself if we might be making a mistake. "No, _no_!" Sam yelled, his eyes flitting between the object in Death's hand to his brother's face. "You don't know! You don't know what'll happen to me! Dean, _please_! No! No! _No_!" He let out a scream of pure agony as Death's hand sunk into his abdomen.

I couldn't watch anymore. I spun around and pressed my face into Dean's chest, and his arm wrapped around me, holding on for dear life. _What if it doesn't work? _I wondered frantically. _What if he's not okay? What if he's trapped inside his own mind with memories of the Cage? We shouldn't have done this! He should've stayed soulless! We made a mistake, and now we're gonna lose him forever!_

Sam's screams finally halted, and Dean's grip on my waist loosened. I took that as a sign that it was safe to look. I turned back just in time for Death to give us a small nod of acknowledgement, and then he was gone.

**I'm sure you lot have a few questions right now…**

**Number one: Can Meg really be trusted? Or is she just another Ruby?**

**Number two: When will Gari **_**finally **_**be detoxed? And how will everyone react?**

**And number three: Are you going to have to wait over a month for the next chapter?**

**All of these questions will be answered in due time. Just stay tuned, and don't give up on me yet!**

**So review it, lovelies! Dasvidaniya!**


	14. Got You Here By My Side

**First of all, how awesome did I do with the updating? I'm feeling kinda proud of myself right now!**

**Now, on to more important things…**

**THIS IS THE ACTUAL REUNION CHAPTER. IT IS MY FAVORITE OUT OF THIS STORY SO FAR. IT IS FLUFFY IN PARTS AND SAD IN PARTS AND DISTURBING IN PARTS AND AH, I JUST LOVE IT.**

**Dudes, I don't own Supernatural, which is kinda obvious. I've pretty much stopped doing disclaimers because everyone should know that already. **

**But if I **_**did **_**own Supernatural, the brothers would never ever ever be separated, and they would give each other bro hugs at the end of every episode because their bro hugs are beautiful and make me want to cry with joy and love.**

**ENJOY.**

Sam had been unconscious for three days—three _long _days of fear, worry, and desperate hope. Dean rarely left the basement, standing just outside the panic room door for hours on end, watching his brother with an unreadable expression. I was glued to the floor beside the cot; I ate and slept right there. At first, I had worried that the panic room would affect me like it did before, but I don't know if the door being open helped or what—all I knew was that I felt fine. Thirsty, yes, but fine.

Castiel had inspected Sam and told us that his soul was in place, but that it felt skinned alive. He doubted Sam would ever wake up.

As if we weren't terrified enough already.

"You want a pillow or a blanket or somethin'?" Bobby asked me on the third day. I shook my head, and he sighed. "Dean, I need ya to go to town and get some supplies," the older hunter said. "We're runnin' low on food… and alcohol."

Dean reluctantly tore his eyes away from his brother's body. "Okay," he muttered, turning to go. I knew he didn't want to leave his brother, yet I also knew that, at the same time, he relished the excuse to distract himself.

I didn't feel the same.

"Gari, you should go with him," Bobby suggested.

"I'm not going anywhere," I snapped, gazing at Sam again. I knew Bobby was just worried about me, but he was crazy if he thought I was going to risk Sam waking up without me there.

"It'd be good for ya to get outta the house," he persisted.

I glared up at the older man rebelliously. "There is _nothing _you can do to make me leave him," I spat. "So just fucking _drop it_."

Bobby's eyes hardened briefly, and then he gave a deep sigh. "Alright, _fine_," he huffed. "Can't blame an old man for tryin'. If ya change your mind and wanna be reasonable about all this, ya know where to find me." With that, he turned and stomped up the stairs.

I dropped my head to rest on the back of my hand. _Fuck, what did I just do? He was just trying to help. Why do I insult everyone I care about?_

"Sammy, you _have _to wake up," I mumbled against my hand. "I'm not as big of a bitch when you're here to make me happy. I'm tired of offending everyone."

I lifted my head and stared at Sam's face. He always looked so young and peaceful when he slept, but then he just looked—

_Dead,_ the voice said gleefully. _He just looks _dead_. He will be soon. Or, at least, he'll _wish _he was._

_Shut up. He's gonna make it. He's got someone up there looking out for him—he'll be fine._

_Oh, how… _pathetic_. You really _do _think he'll be okay, don't you?_

_He _will _be!_ I thought forcefully, and with far more conviction than I actually felt.

"You'll be okay, won't you, Sammy?" I asked softly. "You'll be fine. Death is super powerful, and he knew what he was doing. Soon you'll wake up, and you won't remember the Cage, and you'll be _my _Sam again. Right? I mean, enough bad things have happened—we deserve a break, right?" I clutched Sam's limp hand, trying desperately to hold back the hysterical, frantic worry that was threatening to overwhelm me. "You're gonna wake up, and we're gonna be together again."

I dropped my head again, biting my lip hard. "Oh, God. You've _gotta _wake up, Sammy. I've been alone for almost eighteen months. You've been gone for almost _eighteen months_. I mean, I thought I got you back, but it _wasn't _you—it was the farthest thing _from _you. It was the worst thing I've ever been through. I know, I know. I have no room to complain. You've been in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer, while I've just been up here alone." I took a deep, shaky breath as my eyes stung with tears. I wouldn't let myself cry anymore. Death knew what he was doing. Sam was going to be fine.

I wished I could believe that.

"But—but I can't do this anymore, Sammy," I continued in a whisper. "If you don't wake up, I don't know what I'm gonna do. The things I've done while you were gone…" I trailed off, afraid to confess even to his unconscious body. "I'm nothing without you, Sam. _Nothing._ So you _have _to wake up, Sammy. Okay? Wake up for me. _Please._" I stared at him hopefully, watching his face for the slightest sign that he could hear me—a twitch, a smile, anything.

Nothing happened. _Of course nothing happened. Why did I think it would? _Still, I couldn't help the despair that seeped into my heart, and a lonely tear ran down my cheek. Without wiping it away, I crossed my arms and propped them on the side of the cot. I lay my head down on my arms, squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I dreamed that Sam was dead.

We were still in the panic room, but something was different. Before, when I held Sam's hand, it was warm, and, though it was limp, it still felt _alive_. Now, his hand was cold and lifeless.

"Sammy?" I croaked. "Sam, no! Wake up!" I shook him roughly with my free hand, but nothing happened. "No! You _can't _be dead! You're supposed to be here for Dean! For me! We're supposed to get you back! You can't leave me! _Wake up_!" I sobbed openly, continuing to shake him to no avail.

A dark, shadowy figure suddenly appeared, startling me out of my hysteria. I knew instantly that the figure was there for Sam. It was going to take him away from me.

"You can't have him!" I yelled at the figure, and I released my powers in its direction, hoping to drive it off. It continued to stand there, completely unaffected. "_You can't have him_!" I shrieked as it stepped closer.

All of a sudden, the panic room disappeared, and Sam and I were surrounded by total darkness. I could no longer see the shadow man, but that didn't mean he wasn't there.

A pitch-black hand grabbed Sam's shoulder, and the blackness began to spread, creeping across his body. I released his hand in horror, then immediately regretted it as it, too, started to fade.

"_No_!" I screamed in anguish, grasping fruitlessly at the place where his hand had been. "_No_! _Sam_!" Soon, the darkness engulfed his entire body, and I was left alone. "_Sammy_!"

"Gari!" a voice called, sounding as if it were coming from very far away. "Gari! Wake up! Gari! _Garideth_!"

I woke up crying hysterically. I knew it had only been a nightmare, but I couldn't shake the feeling of utter loneliness and loss. I was too devastated to even wonder who had woken me.

"Gari?" the same voice said hesitantly, and its owner placed a comforting hand on my back. "Garideth, it's okay. Hey, it's okay. It was just a nightmare."

The voice suddenly clicked into place in my mind, and I stopped crying abruptly. I gazed up into the most beautiful, warm, inviting hazel eyes I had ever seen, and I swear my heart stopped for a minute. "S—Sam?" I stuttered out disbelievingly. "Y—you're alive?"

He smiled down at me and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Hey, Gari," he said warmly.

"You're really here…" I breathed. I was frozen with shock, sure that I was hallucinating or something.

"Yeah…" he said, raising his eyebrows. I could tell he had been expecting me to fling myself at him without hesitation, and my actual reaction was puzzling him. "I dunno _how_, but yeah. Are you o—?"

I cut him off by wrapping my arms around his waist in an Ella-worthy hug, and he laughed, apparently satisfied. I buried my face in his chest, so overcome with relief that I couldn't make a sound. Sam hugged me back just as tightly, rubbing his hand in small circles on my back to calm me down. _Just like he used to. Oh, God, he's back. He's really back. My Sammy's _back_._

"You're back," I sighed, finally pulling away to look at him again. I rested my hands on his chest, allowing myself a moment to just soak him in.

He was regarding me with his puppy dog eyes, and, for the first time in a _very_ long time, they were _real_. Those hazel depths were full of emotion—confusion and happiness, which was to be expected, and that ever-present trace of sadness that made _me _happy in a weird way because I knew it was really _him_. He gave me that lopsided grin, and it was real, too. It wasn't cocky or sarcastic or dangerous—it was sincere and sweet and beautiful, a genuine Sam-grin.

"I think we've covered that," he teased good-naturedly, and I let out a giddy, slightly disbelieving laugh. "Now, the more important question is…" He played experimentally with a strand of my short black hair and raised his eyebrows curiously. "What'd you do to your hair?"

I grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through it, internally cursing my decision to change my hair. "Yeah, I'm not too fond of it, either," I replied with a shrug.

"No, no, it's not bad!" Sam said hurriedly, twisting the strand in his fingers. He grinned. "It's just different. I like it."

"I'm thinking about going back blonde," I said. "What d'you think?" As I asked his opinion, I was amazed at how natural it felt to talk to him again. It felt as if he'd never left, as if his soullessness had just been a bad dream.

"I'd like that even more," he replied with a nod.

I smiled up at him and opened my mouth to speak, but the voice suddenly piped up in my head. _Oh, how sweet. Everything's butterflies and rainbows now, isn't it? Now when are you gonna tell him about your vampirism?_

My mouth snapped shut with an audible click, and I frowned deeply. Sam noticed immediately, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing," I said quickly, kicking myself for reacting to the voice's taunts. All I needed was for Sam to think I'd gone senile in his absence.

"C'mon, Gari," he pressed, eyes back in puppy mode. "Y'know you can't lie to me."

I plastered on a grin and said, "It's not important." He shook his head and was about to say something, but I rose up on tiptoes and pecked him on the lips. "You're _back_," I continued. "_That's _what's important."

I started to sink back down onto my heels, but his arms locked around my waist and held me to him. "You're avoiding the question," he said softly, his face inches from mine.

"Who, me? I haven't the slightest idea what you mean!" I kissed him again, and then smiled innocently.

"I'm not gonna drop it," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Whatever you say, Sammy." I slid my arms around his neck and rose up higher, staring into those perfect eyes. I pressed my lips to his briefly, smiling again as I pulled away.

"You're gonna keep doing this until I let it go, aren't you?"

"Mhm," I replied as I trailed my lips along his jaw.

He sighed in defeat. "You're devious," he teased, and then he _finally_ kissed me back.

"Yes, and that _ob_viously bothers you _so much_," I mumbled against his lips. He gave a throaty chuckle and pulled me even closer. His hands strayed under the hem of my shirt, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

Finally, his touch felt _right_. He was my Sammy again.

Suddenly, a door slammed upstairs, and I broke away in shock. Only then did I realize that my bra was unhooked and his shirt was ripped open. I could've sworn I saw a few buttons on the floor.

"Wow," Sam panted. "I should die more often."

I let out an embarrassingly girly giggle. "Hey, I'm only capable of so many warm welcomes," I joked breathlessly. "You've already died once before now—you're running low."

"I'll try to stay alive from now on," he replied with a grin.

"I'd appreciate it." My heart was still beating furiously, and I exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm down. "Maybe we should tell your brother you're back," I suggested somewhat reluctantly. _What I wouldn't give to have him all to myself…_ "This is the first he's left your side in forever, and that's only because Bobby made him."

"I'm guessing he was the one who just ruined the moment?"

"This _is _Dean we're talking about. He's always had terrible timing." I reached behind my back and hooked my bra, all the while never taking my eyes off Sam. "As much as it pains me to say this," I began with a smirk, "you might wanna try to button your shirt."

He laughed and said, "It'd be a lot easier if I still _had _buttons." I giggled again, not even caring how abnormal that was for me anymore. Sam was _back_—I had a perfectly good reason to be girlishly giddy.

Once we were halfway presentable, I twined my fingers through his, unable to keep the smile off my face as I noticed how right that felt. I couldn't _wait_ to see Dean's face when he saw his brother.

When we got to the living room, Bobby and Dean were sitting at the cluttered desk, drinking whisky and talking about a case. I released Sam's hand and pushed him forward. He rolled his eyes and smiled at me. Taking a deep breath, he simply called out, "Dean."

Both Bobby and Dean froze instantly. Dean set his glass down hard and slowly turned around to look at his brother. At the look in his eyes, a large grin spread across my face. He looked like he was about to cry tears of joy. "Sam?" he asked quietly, his voice shaking with disbelief.

The brothers stepped forward simultaneously and met in a tight embrace. A surge of happiness welled up inside of me, and I rapidly blinked back tears. Everything seemed _right_ again. I kind of felt like we could take on anything at that moment, just because we finally had Sam back.

They broke apart finally, reluctance showing clearly on Dean's face, and Sam moved toward Bobby and pulled him in for a hug. I saw something like dread flash across Bobby's face, and I wondered what could have caused that. "Good to see ya," he said stiffly as he extracted himself from Sam's grip.

Sam grinned, and then seemed to remember something. "Wait…" he started. "I saw you… I—I felt Lucifer snap your neck!"

Bobby shifted back and forth on his feet awkwardly. "Well, Cas kinda—"

"Cas is _alive_?" Sam interrupted.

"Yeah, Cas—Cas is fine," Dean answered, still staring at his brother as if expecting him to disappear at any moment. "Sam, are you okay?"

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged a little, grinning sheepishly. "Actually, um… I'm starving."

About ten minutes later, we were all sitting around in Bobby's kitchen while Sam plowed his way through a considerably large amount of sandwiches. Dean sat across from him at the table, his beer untouched, refusing to take his eyes off his brother. After getting Sam a beer, Bobby had retreated to the far side of the kitchen to lean against a counter. I hopped up on the counter beside him and glanced at him worriedly. I had no clue why he was acting so weird. Sam was back, so why wasn't he happy?

"So, Sam…" Dean began slowly.

"Yeah?" Sam asked around a mouthful of food.

"What's the last thing you remember?" I shot Dean a warning look, thinking of what we had discussed earlier. We decided not to mention anything of the past year and a half to Sam in fear that it might break the wall. I knew he was just checking to see if the wall had successfully kept Sam's memories at bay, but I was still a bit paranoid.

Sam thought for a moment. "The field," he said finally. "Then I fell."

"Okay?" Dean pressed, oblivious to my glare. "And then?"

"I woke up in the panic room."

"That's it?" Bobby piped up. "Ya really don't remember—?" I nudged the older man, silently willing him to stop talking.

"Let's be glad," Dean said, glancing at Bobby and shaking his head. "Who wants to remember all that Hell?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, how long was I gone?"

"In three days, it'll be eighteen months," I answered automatically. Dean and Bobby gave me weird looks, and I blushed and looked away. I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Thankfully, Sam's incredulity saved me from feeling awkward any longer. "What? I was downstairs for… I don't remember anything…" He trailed off, still trying to wrap his head around that. "So, how'd I get back? Was it Cas?"

Dean and I shared a look. "Not exactly," he said hesitantly.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Dean, what did you do?"

"Me and Death—"

"_Death_?" Sam gasped angrily. "The _Horseman_?"

Dean's eyes hardened, like they always did when he was feeling particularly stubborn. "I had leverage," he said. "It's done."

"You sure?" Sam asked warily.

"It's over," Dean nodded. "Slate's wiped."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well, isn't this just neat and clean?" he said scathingly, and I nudged him again.

"_Yes_, it is," Dean said defiantly. "For once."

Sam looked at the sandwich in his hand thoughtfully. After a minute, he nodded, deciding to trust his brother. "Is there anything else I should know?" he asked us.

Dean hesitated, glancing at me again, and I just barely shook my head. "No," he said finally. "Another beer?"

Sam noticed the exchange between us, but he didn't mention it. "Uh, yeah."

"I got it," I said as Dean started to get up, and he sat back down as I leaped lightly from my perch on the counter.

Bobby rolled his eyes again and walked out of the kitchen without another word. I winced when the front door slammed, and I had to suppress a sigh. I finally realized why he was so moody, and, in my opinion, it was an idiotic reason.

"What's with him?" Sam asked curiously.

I reached in the refrigerator to grab a beer. "He's just been in a weird mood lately," I lied, glad that my face was turned away from him. It was so much easier to lie to him when I wasn't looking at him. "I think it's an old age thing," I said with a smile as I turned around and handed Sam his beer. He chuckled a little, and then started on another sandwich. "Okay, how many is that?" I teased.

"Um… six?" he said sheepishly, his voice muffled because of the food.

I laughed and said, "You better slow down. I wouldn't want you losing those abs."

"Is this what I'm gonna have to deal with from now on?" Dean asked exasperatedly. "Can't you two just have reunion sex and stop with the flirting?"

Sam coughed loudly as a bite of sandwich got stuck in his throat, and my face flushed with heat. "Oh, shut up," I said lamely, and, this time, it was Dean's turn to laugh. I stuck my tongue out at him. "Why don't you go outside and bother Bobby?"

"Alright, alright," he said with a smirk. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"There's _nothing _you wouldn't do," I shot back. He seemed to think about that for a minute; then, with a shrug, he turned and headed outside. I turned back to Sam. "Actually, um, I should probably go out there, too," I told him. I had to talk to Bobby about how he was treating Sam. "You okay if I leave?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," he replied. "I'll just eat about five more sandwiches and come and join you."

I laughed and shook my head, turning to go. I hesitated at the doorframe of the kitchen. "Hey, Sam?" I said, looking at him over my shoulder.

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you're back." He grinned at me, and my heart fluttered in my chest. I headed for the front door again, feeling happier than I thought possible.

I walked up to Dean and Bobby right as Dean said, "What? Why the poopface?" I raised my eyebrows at Dean's choice of words.

Bobby came around the car he was working on. "I'm glad he's better," the older hunter said slowly. "I really am. But... That kid went straight-up Menendez on me not ten days ago. And, now, it's all just...erased? Sorry, I'm having a bit of a hard time even _looking_ at him."

I huffed, my suspicions about his attitude confirmed. "He locked me in the panic room, and he would've killed me after you," I said. "But you don't see me giving him the cold shoulder for something he doesn't remember doing."

"It's not the same," Bobby argued.

"Oh, really? And how not?" I asked, glaring at the older man.

"It wasn't Sam," Dean said, stepping in between us.

"Well, maybe it wasn't _all_ Sam," Bobby said, "but it _was_ him, Dean."

"_No_, it _wasn't_," I growled. "He had no _soul_. He wasn't aware of what he was doing. That man in there—that's the Sam we all know and love, the Sam who wouldn't hurt a fly. The way you're treating him is gonna make him suspicious, and you _know _how smart he is. He'll figure it out if you keep being so goddamn _obvious_!"

"Well, I'm sorry I can't just _forget_ he tried to kill me a few days ago!" Bobby snapped, his voice rising angrily.

"What if he'd been possessed and tried to kill you? That would've been the demon, not him! Would you still not trust Sam for what the demon did?" I asked, and he cast his eyes at the ground. I knew then that I'd won the argument. "That thing that tried to kill you—that _wasn't Sam_, and you know that. And you also know that if he knew _why _you were acting this way, he'd hate himself. Self-loathing _is _the Winchester way, after all."

Dean nodded appreciatively, even agreeing with my last sentence. "So, what d'you wanna do, Bobby? We tell him everything?"

Bobby sighed. "No. Just wish I could, that's all."

"Yeah, but if we start throwing that crap at him, we don't know what's gonna happen."

"It could bring the wall down," I added.

"I know." Bobby sighed again. "I know."

"So, y'know what?" Dean said. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a gift horse, and I'm not looking for teeth. I'm sending Death a damn fruit basket."

"He's gonna find out, y'know," the older man said. "One way or another, someone'll tell him, or he'll figure it out on his own. Gari's right. He's not dumb. He should it hear it from us."

Dean and I shared a worried look. "Can we just leave it alone for the moment, please?" he implored.

Bobby threw his hands up in defeat and grabbed a wrench, heading back to the car. "Okay. But ya better prep for the B-side. 'Cause when Sam realizes we're shinin' him, it ain't gonna be cute."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I didn't really want to be away from Sam, but, there I was at the Sioux Falls Wal-Mart. Meg had said she'd meet me today, so I took my car and headed into town. Thankfully, this Wal-Mart was one of the twenty-four hour ones, so the excuse of going to buy tampons at one in the morning wasn't totally implausible. And, besides, none of the guys would question my need for feminine products.

I sat in my car in the parking lot, trying not to think about what was waiting for me when I got back to Bobby's. I had begun to weigh my thirst for demon blood against my desire to be with Sam. While it physically pained me to be away from Sam, it wasn't as deadly as being without the blood. My love for Sam was an emotion—my bloodlust was a necessity.

"How'd you get away on your own?" a voice asked suddenly, and I jumped. I turned to see Meg sitting in the passenger seat. "Sorry, did I scare you?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, actually," I said, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. "What took you so long?"

"I had to kill a demon," she replied with a shrug. "Is Sam awake?"

I grinned. "Yeah, he is. He woke up this morning."

"And you're not with him?"

"He and Dean need some time to catch up. I'll have plenty of time for that later." Meg wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively, and I rolled my eyes. "You demons and your dirty minds," I said, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

"Hey, what can I say? It's who I am," she said with a smirk. "So… when are you gonna tell him?" she asked.

My grin faded, and I stared at my hands. "I'm, uh… I'm not sure."

"Gari, you realize this stuff can seriously fuck you up, right?" Meg said slowly, something akin to concern in her normally sarcastic voice. "You've been on it for a while already. Sooner or later, you're gonna get so bad you can't go a day without it."

"I'll figure something out," I shrugged carelessly, not meeting her eyes.

"Seriously, Gari," she pressed. "I know it's not normal for a demon to try to help, but I wouldn't want anyone to go through what you're gonna go through if it gets that bad."

"I'll handle it," I snapped at her. "D'you have it or not?"

She stared at me for a minute, an unreadable expression on her face. It's funny—I had almost gotten used to the ugly demon face. I could control how much of it I saw most of the time, and it made it a lot easier to talk to Meg when I didn't think of her as evil Hell spawn.

"Yeah," she said at last. She pulled two flasks from her pocket and handed them to me. "Do me a favor—don't use them unless it's absolutely necessary. You don't wanna get any more dependent on it, and you _really _don't wanna mess up Sam's first few days back by being hyped up on Vitamin D, do you?"

I didn't answer. I took the flasks from her and put them in my glove compartment. "Thanks," I said quietly. "I'll see you next week?"

She frowned. "Sure. But think about what I said. I don't wanna say it again. It makes me feel like I'm getting soft, and I don't like it."

I smiled slightly. "You got it."

Then, without another word, she was gone.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I had decided to listen to Meg about waiting to drink the demon blood. This was Sam's first day back. I didn't want to ruin it by being wacked out. I locked the flasks in my glove compartment. I knew they would be safe there, as I was the only one to drive that car. Unless I was in town, it was never touched.

The day had gone by quicker than I realized. It was three in the morning now, and I was practically dead on my feet. The excitement of Sam finally being himself again had exhausted me, and I couldn't wait to crawl into my creaky yet comfortable bed.

I had just brushed my teeth and was changing into my pajamas when there was I knock on my door. I had an idea who it was, but I hurriedly pulled on the rest of my clothes just in case.

Sure enough, Sam was standing there when I opened the door. He gave me that adorable lopsided grin and said, "Hi."

I returned the grin tiredly, stifling a yawn. "Hi," I replied.

"How come you're so tired?" he asked, walking into my room and sitting down on the edge of my bed. "Three in the morning's usually nothing for you."

"I dunno," I shrugged, closing my door behind him. "I guess excitement wears me out or something." This time, I couldn't hold back the yawn. His grin widened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Don't you _dare _tell me I'm cute when I'm sleepy," I threatened, pointing a finger at him. "I am not _cute_."

"Alright, alright, fine," he said, putting his hands up defensively. "You're not cute." He grabbed my hands and pulled me towards him. "You're beautiful."

"That's all very well," I said distractedly, swaying a little on my feet. "And, normally, you saying that would earn you sexy time. But, right now, all I wanna do is sleep." He regarded me with those puppy dog eyes, and, for the first time in, well, _ever_, they had absolutely no affect on me. _Fuck, I didn't know I could get this tired._ "Not this time," I said, shaking my head.

"Damn, that usually works," he teased. "You must really be tired."

"Or you're losing your touch," I joked halfheartedly as I crawled under the covers.

He chuckled and stood up. "Well, um, goodnight," he said awkwardly, heading for the door. "I guess I'm gonna go back downstairs with Dean."

"Don't leave me," I begged pathetically, struggling to keep my eyes open. I needed him to stay with me. I needed to be reassured that I wasn't just dreaming this whole thing, that he wasn't still in the panic room or still soulless.

He turned back to me, a soft smile on his face. "Okay."

A few seconds later, he slid into bed beside me. I immediately curled into him, taking comfort from the fact that, so far, he wasn't a dream. "Just hold me for a little while, okay?" I murmured quietly, my words slurring a little out of exhaustion.

His arm went around me, and I could feel a small laugh rumbling in his chest. "Okay," he repeated. I smiled slightly as I fell deeper into sleep. "Gari?" he said suddenly.

"Hm?"

He pressed his lips into my hair briefly. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Sammy," I sighed, and then I drifted off into the first peaceful sleep I'd had in eighteen months.

**YAY, FLUFF.**

**MY BABY IS BAAACK. Drinks all around! (But I'm not paying.)**

**The next chapter will cover **_**Like a Virgin**_**. I just wanted this chapter to focus more on the reunion. But I seriously cannot WAIT to write **_**Like a Virgin**_**! You guys will get to see the true extent of Gari's geekiness. Imagine Gari and Dr. Visyak talking about dragons and mythical swords. IT SHALL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.**

**Okay, so it's 5:15 in the morning, and I think I'm getting to that point where I'm so tired that I'm feeling hyper. I've read over this once already, but I will look over it again some other time for errors. **

**And, now, I bid you farewell.**

**DASVIDANIYA!**


	15. In The Darkest Depths Of Mordor

**Once upon a time, there was a girl who wrote Supernatural fanfiction. She loved writing fanfiction and sharing her stories with everyone, but she was very bad at updating on a regular schedule. The girl often promised everyone and herself that she would do better, but this promise was broken every time. The girl thought that, once she got rid of Soulless Sam, she would have more inspiration.**

**But then something magnificent (or terrible, depending on your viewpoint) happened. The girl got a subscription to Netflix, and thus discovered the fantastically brilliant show called Doctor Who! She watched the entire six and a half seasons in almost a month, and, in doing so, she procrastinated horribly in updating her beloved fanfiction. She also started the series over as soon as she finished it! This girl was obsessed! The show was taking over her life! Taking over her mind!**

**Finally, she grew determined. She knew that she owed her followers on an update, so she sat down and worked longer than she ever had before on her latest chapter. The chapter was nineteen pages in Microsoft Word and over 6,900 words long before her author's note! The girl hoped that her loyal readers would forgive her for procrastinating so long, and she knew that she'd have to make it up to them somehow. But ****_how _****was the question…**

**That girl's name is Garideth, and she is going to stop talking about herself in third person now.**

**So, obviously, I'm terribly sorry.**

**I don't own Supernatural. If I did, they'd have cancelled the show by now because of my terrible concept of time and deadlines. Geez.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

I woke up curled up to something warm and muscular. I snuggled closer to it for a minute, and then I froze. I only knew one person who felt like that, and I would _never_ be in bed with him again._ No, it's gotta be something else. I didn't get drunk again last night, did I?_

I opened my eyes warily, and, sure enough, I was staring up into Sam's face. "Shit!" I yelped, leaping out of the bed and backing towards the door.

Sam shot bolt upright in shock. "Whassa matter?" he asked groggily, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

_Wait. Okay. Soulless Sam doesn't sleep. _I let out a deep breath of relief and leaned back against the door as all of the memories came rushing back. _We fixed him. He's my Sammy._

_Way to keep a secret_, the voice said mockingly. _That wasn't suspicious _at all_._

"What's wrong?" Sam asked worriedly.

I sighed and walked back over to the bed. "I'm sorry," I said as I ran a hand through my hair. "I dunno what that was about."

"Gari, this is the second time you've freaked out on me," he said. "I know there's something you're not telling me."

"Sam, really." I looked away from him, knowing how easy it was for him to read me. "It was nothing. Just a nightmare or something."

"Garideth," he said softly, lifting my chin and causing me to meet his eyes. "You and I both know that's not true. You were _scared_ of me. What the hell's going on?"

"Sam, I—"

Just then, I heard a car door slam, and I ran to the window. Dean and Bobby were standing at the Impala and loading bags into the trunk. _Are they leaving without us? _I wondered disbelievingly.

"Will you just—"

"They're leaving without us!" I said aloud. "This is gonna have to wait. Pack your bags! Let's go hunt something!" I grabbed my backpack and started shoving clothes inside it.

"This isn't over, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said dismissively as I changed clothes. "Get ready already! D'you _want _them to leave us?"

Sam sighed. "Okay, fine. But we're still gonna talk about this."

"Whatever you say, Sammy. See you downstairs!" I practically sprinted out the door, all the while thanking whatever deity had taken a liking to me that I'd heard that car door slam.

I came outside right as Bobby was about to get into the car. "And where d'you think _you're _going?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the side of the Impala.

"Oh. Uh, there's this thing in Oregon," Dean replied.

Sam came to stand beside me and said, "Great. We're in."

"Whoa, whoa," Dean said, regarding his brother with worried eyes. "You just got vertical."

Sam nodded. "Exactly. I'm up. I'm good."

"Well, a few more days of crap cable couldn't hurt!" I crossed my fingers mentally, hoping that Sam would listen to his brother for once.

I had no such luck. The younger Winchester laughed. "Right. Because that's what _you_ did when you got back from Hell."

Dean sighed. "Alright. You, me, Gari, and Bobby."

"Oh, you three go on ahead," Bobby said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Ya got this covered. I, uh, forgot I promised that idjit Rufus I'd work the phones for him, so..." I rolled my eyes. So he was still on that whole "not trusting Sam" thing.

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the older man said, making sure to avoid our eyes. "You three enjoy catchin' up, okay?" He turned away and quickly walked back to the house, and I glared at him the whole way.

Sam frowned. "What was that?" he asked, sounding slightly hurt, like he knew it was because of him.

Dean shrugged, trying to be casual. "One part age, three parts liquor."

Sam grinned a little, and the brothers moved to their separate doors of the car and got in. I got in the back seat behind them and slid over to the middle, unable to stop the large smile that spread over my face. Sure, Sam was suspicious. And, sure, I was still really messed up. But Sam was back, and things were looking up again.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Uh, you got it, officer. Thank you. You too." Sam hung up the phone and looked at his brother. "So, get this—besides the crash, there were two other disappearances in town this week."

"Really?" Dean asked interestedly.

"Yeah, last weekend, a college girl vanished from her apartment—on the _seventeenth floor_. Then, three days ago, another girl didn't make it home from school."

"They know each other?"

"No. No connection. Just young and female, like the plane-crash girl."

"Penny," I piped up from the backseat.

"Huh?" the brothers said in unison, and I smiled. I had missed that.

"Her name was Penny Dessertine. Not 'plane-crash girl.' Have a little respect for the dead, why don't you?"

Sam gave me a weird look, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, I forgot," he said to Sam, "while you were gone, Gari became compassionate."

"_Really_?" Sam asked, looking kind of impressed.

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped. "I was hunting _alone_; I had to learn to play nice. I didn't have Elle there to be good cop for me."

"That's your own fault," Dean said, and I glared at him. He chuckled and looked at Sam again. "What would disappear a girl out of the sky, anyway?"

"Good question." Sam fell silent for a minute, and the mood in the car dropped drastically. I could already tell some serious talk was coming. "So you never even tried, huh?" he said finally.

Dean looked at his brother, clearly confused. "Tried?"

"To go live a life...after. With Ella and the kids," Sam clarified. "You _do_ remember you promised that, right?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"So, why didn't you try?" Sam urged.

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"'Cause look at you. Look at this. You're exactly the same."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. "I still visit them sometimes," he said quietly. "Gari and I both do."

"So, what happened?" Sam asked. "Why'd you start hunting again?"

"It's complicated," Dean said with a note of finality, and Sam thankfully took that as a sign to leave him alone.

The younger Winchester looked at me over the seat. "What about you?" he asked. "You didn't fall in love with a normal person and decide to stop hunting forever?"

I laughed, and he grinned at me. "Not a chance," I replied. My smile faded quickly, however, as memories assaulted me. "I did exactly what I told you I would do," I said darkly. "I left."

Sam's eyes filled with concern, and I'll admit I was getting sick of that particular emotion. I knew that I wasn't doing an excellent job of hiding how different I had become, and his worried glances just kept reminding me of that. Sooner or later, he'd find out what I was keeping from him. I hoped that he found out about the full extent of the Death deal first. The longer I could keep my addiction a secret, the better. I dreaded to see how he would react to me following in his footsteps. I knew he'd eventually forgive me, but everything we had between us would be affected. He would never trust me again.

And maybe I brought it on myself. Maybe I deserved whatever happened to me. But that didn't mean I was willing to accept it.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I decided to wait in the car while the boys interrogated Penny Dessertine's sister. I figured they needed some time to get back into the groove of hunting together, and I was more than willing to give them that.

Dean had excitement radiating off him in waves so strong, I was surprised Sam couldn't feel it as they walked up the steps of the Dessertine house and knocked on the door. A young woman came out and looked up at them with sad eyes. They talked for a minute, and then she led them inside.

I propped my feet up on the back of the front seat and leaned my head against the rear window. I sank into the memories of my time alone, and I closed my eyes as I thought of all the things I had done over the past eighteen months.

Demon blood. The worst thing I could have possibly become dependent on. I could've picked cocaine, heroin, morphine, _anything_, and it would've been better than demon blood. Why the hell did I have to get addicted to the thing that would destroy Sam the most? I _knew_ how badly his addiction days weighed on his conscience, and I _knew _how badly he loathed all things demon because of it. I was already part demon. I just _had _to go and get addicted, didn't I?

God, this would tear us apart. It would be bad enough if Dean and Bobby and Ella found out, but _Sam_? He'd never look at me the same. All traces of trust would be gone between us. And the worst part about it is that I knew he'd still try to make me feel better. Even if he looked at me with disgust-filled eyes, he'd still try to help me through the detox as best as he could. He'd still tell me that it wasn't my fault. Hell, he'd probably blame himself for leaving me. But, deep down, he'd consider me a freak, an abomination, a _monster_. And he'd be right. He'd be _absolutely _right.

Because, now, I didn't _want _to stop. It wasn't just that I depended on the demon blood anymore—I wanted it. I actually _wanted _it. I wanted that power and that adrenaline and that burn. I wanted that feeling of invincibility. I wanted the assurance that I could never fail. And I wanted the thrill of feeling a demon's life drain away as I sucked it dry.

_Fuck! _Why _did I leave those flasks at the hotel? I need a hit _now_!_

_What if Sam notices something? _the voice asked.

_I don't care! I _need _it! I feel like I'm dying of thirst!_

No_, you don't, _the voice said matter-of-factly. _You just _think _you do because you've been thinking about the blood. You can wait until we get back to the hotel. You can even wait until we get back to Sioux Falls if you have to. You just have to believe you can survive without it for a little while longer. And then you have to make sure you drink until you're completely full when you get your next chance._

_Okay, okay. Fine. You're right. I hate that you're right, but you're right._

_I've never been wrong before,_ the voice said cockily, and I found that I couldn't argue.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Seriously?" I asked as Dean entered the room and handed me a paper bag. "'Big AZ?' You got us food from a place called Big AZ?"

"Hey, it's the closest place to the hotel," Dean said defensively. "You want something else, you go out and get it yourself!" I rolled my eyes and took a long sip from my drink. "That's what I thought," Dean said. He turned to his brother. "So what you got?"

"Uh...Well, looks like those other two missing girls both baked cookies for the Lord," Sam answered, and I laughed at the confused look on Dean's face.

"What is that? Code?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Church choir, bake sales, promise ring clubs—the works. They were good girls. But Penny wasn't even a Christian, so—"

"I have another theory," Dean interrupted, and he pulled a small black book from his pocket. "Penny's diary."

"And again," I muttered, "no respect for the dead."

"Did you steal that from her room?" Sam asked disbelievingly.

Dean grinned slightly. "I love that you even asked me that."

"And why wouldn't I?"

Dean hesitated, his grin fading, and I shot him a warning look. "No reason," he said with a shrug. "So girl-nappings. What if it's not about religion; what if it's about purity?"

"You mean you think they're all—"

"Virgins, Sam," Dean confirmed with a gleeful nod. "_Virgins_."

Sam frowned, giving his brother a skeptical look. "Penny was twenty-two."

"Yeah, with a pink room."

"…So?"

"And stuffed teddy bears."

"Fine," Sam relented. "But you really think—"

Dean cleared his throat and flipped to a page in Penny's diary. "'I've decided I'm going to give Stan my most precious gift,'" he read, and I gave a snort of laughter.

Sam stared at his brother for a minute. "Wow," he said finally, making a face. "That sounded _really_ creepy coming out of your mouth."

"I think I delivered it," Dean shrugged.

Sam blinked rapidly, shaking his head. "Y'know, you—you could have led with the diary. Anyways, let's say you're right. Fine. Who'd want virgins?"

"You got me. I prefer ladies with experience." Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I smacked his arm. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You make people _very_ uncomfortable, d'you know that?" I said.

"I can't help it if you don't have a sense of humor."

"Oh, I have a sense of humor," I replied, "just not the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old boy."

Sam laughed, and Dean glared at me. "Shut up!"

"I rest my case."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate hospitals? Because I _really _hate hospitals. I mean, obviously, doing what I do, I've been in quite a few of them, so you'd think I'd be used to them by now. Nope! They creep the hell out of me. And guess where we were?

Yep, that's right. In a hospital.

We were going to interview a girl who'd recently been attacked by some kind of creature. Her face was beaten and bruised, and she looked like utter hell. Hopefully, she'd be able to help us out with our investigation.

"It happened so fast," the girl, Melissa, said to us.

"It's alright, Melissa," Sam told her kindly. "What came at you? You can tell us."

"It—it looked like a...a giant bat." She laughed a little hysterically. "You think I'm making it up, right? That's what the other man said."

Sam smiled at her. "Well, I'm not the other man." I suppressed a grin. It was _so good _to have him back.

Melissa stared at him unsurely, but, when he turned on those puppy dog eyes, she caved almost instantly. "It came right at me. It was huge, I swear. That's how I got this." She pulled her hospital gown off of her shoulder and resituated herself to show us three long gashes on her back. My eyes widened as I thought of how similar they looked to my wendigo scar. _But it's obviously not a wendigo. Wendigos don't look like giant bats. And they can't kidnap people out of airplanes._

"So, it attacked," Sam continued. "And then what happened?"

Melissa covered her shoulder with her gown. "I don't know. I passed out, and, when I woke up, it was gone."

"Is there anything else you can think of? Anything you can tell us, even if it doesn't seem important?" Sam urged.

She thought for a minute. "Well, my ring got lost," she said slowly. "Or else that thing stole it, if that makes any sense."

"What kind of ring?" Dean asked interestedly.

"Gold. Promise ring."

"Promise ring," Dean said thoughtfully. "So, uh...from, like, a church? Like… like a purity ring?"

"Yeah… Why?" Melissa looked up at him confusedly, and I dreaded the next question. _This is gonna be awkward. _

Dean hesitated a minute, looking kind of uncomfortable. "I gotta ask," he said finally, shaking his head. "Uh, Melissa... Look, nobody is, uh, judging anybody here, okay? Believe me. But… should you really be wearing that ring?"

Melissa's eyes widened to the size of baseballs. "Well, I-I mean, I-I am—" she spluttered.

"_Really_?" Dean pressed knowingly.

"Matt Barne didn't count!" she yelped indignantly, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. I couldn't help but think of how Ella had done the exact same thing to fool Greg. He never found out, either.

We quickly left the hospital, waiting until we got outside to talk about the new information.

"So, what, you think Batman tried to rape her?" Sam asked as we walked toward the car.

Dean shrugged. "Well, he does carry a lot of rage," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Can we _not _use the best superhero of all time as a metaphor for an evil monster?" I complained. "He's got it tough enough as it is."

Dean rolled his eyes at me. "Whatever. But, anyway, he rejected her because she was already dehymenated, huh?"

"You think?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I think it just goes to show that being easy's pretty much all upside."

Sam grinned. "So, what kind of thing likes virgins and gold?"

_Dragons, _I thought to myself. _But no _way _we're actually facing dragons. That's just _too _insane, even with everything being wacked out this year._

"P. Diddy?" Dean suggested with a smirk.

The younger Winchester laughed and shook his head. "You know, it's comforting."

"What's that?"

"I died for a year, came back, and you're still not funny."

"Shut up. I'm hilarious."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

A loud noise that sounded like swords clanging together sounded from Sam's laptop. He looked at the screen disbelievingly. "This can't be possible."

"What is it?" I asked, moving to look over his shoulder. I immediately busted out laughing. "Oh, that's fantastic."

"What?" Dean pressed.

Sam sighed. "Um, I Googled 'fire,' 'claws,' 'flying,' 'stealing virgins,' and 'gold,' and it all takes me to the same place."

"Where?"

"_World of Warcraft_ fansites!" I answered happily.

Dean gave me an odd look. "…I don't know what that means."

"Dragons, dude," Sam said. "See? Told you. Not possible."

"Actually, it might be," Dean said thoughtfully.

"How? In what reality?" Sam asked.

"It's been a strange year."

"Not _that _strange," I said.

"We should get a second opinion." Dean opened his phone and pressed one of the speed dials. He put his phone to his ear and said, "What d'you know about dragons?" I guessed he was talking to Bobby, and, from Dean's reactions, it seemed as though Bobby didn't believe in dragons, either. Near the end of the conversation, Dean's eyes hardened slightly. _Oh, boy. Bobby must be talking about Sam now. _"Everything's fine," Dean said tersely. "Sam and Gari say hey." He hung up the phone with a distinctly pissed look on his face.

Sam looked at his brother worriedly. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Bobby say anything?"

"Nope," Dean said, still sounding quite annoyed. Sam sighed and flipped open John's journal. "Dad never wrote anything about dragons. I promise. I'd remember if I read _The NeverEnding Story_ in there."

Sam grinned a little, but it soon faded, replaced with a look of confusion. "Hey, did we hunt a skinwalker lately?"

Dean and I shared a panicked glance. _Oh, my God. He's remembering. This isn't supposed to happen! _"Doesn't ring a bell," Dean said, trying to seem casual. "Why?"

"I dunno. Just...déjà vu or something." Sam shrugged, about to let it drop. Then he shook his head and looked between the two of us. "Are you sure? I could have sworn—"

Dean broke in before he could go any further. "You gotta remember, your eggs are still a little scrambled, right? But, yeah, I'm sure."

Sam frowned. "Alright. Yeah. Never mind."

Suddenly, Dean's phone rang. "Hey, Bobby," he said into the mouthpiece. "What you got?" He waited for Bobby's reply. "Dr. Visyak, S.F.U. Got it. Thanks." He turned to Sam. "Alright. I'm going to San Francisco, figure out how to kill these things. You figure out where they are."

"Wait," Sam said, a slight whining tone to his voice. "Did Bobby say where they like to park?"

"No."

The younger Winchester sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "Great. Back to the lore."

"Which says what? That they live in Middle-earth?" Dean smirked, looking very proud of himself.

"No. Caves."

"And, besides," I piped up, "everyone knows that dragons are extinct in Middle-earth. Bard the Bowman killed Smaug. Smaug was the last one."

Dean's smirk faded, and he looked between the two of us sourly. "You guys are such nerds."

"Hey, I'm just saying. If you're gonna try to sound all clever by referring to something Tolkien, at least get your facts straight," I said with a grin. "You're talking to a fanatic here."

Dean rolled his eyes while Sam chuckled softly. "Okay, you," Dean said, pointing at me. "You coming with me or staying with him?"

I bit my lip indecisively. On one hand, I hated to leave Sam so soon after I'd got him back. But on the other hand… I could go talk to an expert on _dragons_! How the hell could I pass that up?

I looked at Sam with big, wide eyes, silently begging for his permission to go with Dean. He laughed and said, "Yes, you can go."

"Yay!" I ran over to him and looped my arms around his neck. "Thank you so much! You're the best!" I pecked him on the cheek as he continued to laugh. I ran over to Dean and said, "C'mon! Let's go meet this dragon lady!"

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Doctor Visyak's house was _huge_. I had this sudden urge to explore the entire place. There had to be all kinds of secret passageways and giant libraries and rooms devoted to dragon lore.

"Don't wet yourself," Dean said sarcastically, and I slapped his arm.

"Shut up!" I snapped.

He grinned cheekily at me and pressed the buzzer on the house's intercom.

A strong female voice spoke up. "Yes?"

"Dr. Visyak," Dean said. "My name is Dean Winchester, and this is—"

"Office hours are Monday and Friday," Visyak interrupted.

"Bobby Singer sent us." We waited for a minute, but there was no reply. "Hello?" Dean tried. The door opened to reveal a gorgeous blonde older woman, and Dean's eyes widened slightly. "Hi," he said, using his flirting voice.

"Whoa, there, tiger," I muttered to Dean, and he rolled his eyes.

Visyak led us inside to the living room, where she turned around and lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow at us curiously. "Bobby Singer…" she said slowly. "Tell him something for me next time you see him."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Hm?"

"Actually, just kick him in the jewels," she said with a shrug. "That's more poetic."

"No love lost between you two, huh?"

She gave a wry grin. "No. Just the opposite."

"_Seriously_?" I said, shocked. "Now _that's _something I'd like to know more about."

"That's his story to tell. He's the idiot." She smiled and said, "So, what's this about?"

Dean fixed her a skeptical look. "Well, uh..."

"Dragons!" I broke in.

"Really?" Visyak said, sounding interested.

"What, no twelve-sided-dice joke?" Dean teased.

"We can joke about them because they've disappeared. But they aren't funny. At all."

"Well, one just flew in stateside."

"Are you _sure_?" she gasped.

I nodded eagerly. "It _completely _fits the lore. The gold, the virgins, the works."

Dr. Visyak gaped at the two of us, and something akin to excitement sparked in her eyes. "But how? I mean, _why_? It's been seven hundred years!"

"Banner crop of crazy all the way around these days, doc," Dean shrugged.

"So you want to know how to kill it," she guessed.

"Yes, unfortunately," I replied, and Dean gave me a weird look.

"Well, you need a blade."

"Okay, so, I've gotta test the lore here," I said happily. "Is it one forged with dragon's blood?"

Visyak nodded appreciatively. "That's right."

Dean frowned, confused. "So you need one to kill one, but you got to kill one to make one. How does that work out?"

"Well, there aren't many dragon swords around anymore," Visyak said sadly. "Five or six, tops, worldwide. I mean, there's the Sword of St. George, and, of course, there's Excalibur. And there's—"

"You know a lot about this stuff, don't you?"

Visyak grinned cockily. "Well, I sure as hell better. I have one in the basement."

My eyes widened, and I let out a small gasp of amazement. Dean rolled his eyes at me again, and he turned to Visyak and said disbelievingly, "You have one."

"Finding it took two decades, countless hours, and some really bad sex with an eastern European ambassador," she said proudly as she led us down a flight of stairs, "but, yeah." She opened a large door at the bottom of the staircase and revealed a sword embedded in a large rock.

"Oh. My. _God_!" I squeaked, taking a wondering step forward and reaching out to touch the sword's hilt. "Is this really real? Is this an _actual _dragon sword?"

"Is it Excalibur?" Dean asked.

"Don't be stupid," I snapped at him. "No _way_ it's Excalibur." I glanced at Dr. Visyak unsurely. "Is it?"

Visyak smiled at me. "No. This..." she said, gesturing grandly at the sword, "is the Sword of Brunswick. Love of my life!"

Dean stared at the stone. "So, uh, what's with the cement shoe?"

"Y'know, binding sword to stone used to be all the rage." She shrugged. "To protect them."

"Alright, well, how do we get this puppy out?"

Dr. Visyak laughed. "Well, come on. You know this one. We need a brave knight who's willing to step up and kill the beast!"

"Right..." Dean said slowly. "Alright, well, I'll, uh, give it a whirl. D'you mind?"

Visyak shrugged, raising an eyebrow in amusement, and Dean took that as permission. _Oh, this is gonna be _good_._

Dean grabbed the hilt and pulled with all his might, letting out a grunt of frustration. He let go and stumbled back, glaring at the sword. I stifled a laugh, and Dr. Visyak smiled sweetly at him. "You okay?" she asked.

Dean frowned at us. "Never better." He took hold of the sword again and tugged on it. He screwed his face up in concentration and braced himself against the stone. "Oh, son of a bitch!" he cursed as his grip slipped, and he fell forward, stopping himself right before he hit his head on the rock. "That's really on there!"

I busted out laughing as Dr. Visyak said, "Yeah, afraid so." She put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

The Winchester narrowed his eyes at me, and I tried to stop laughing. "Well," he said, pointedly ignoring me. "I have another idea."

"What?" Visyak asked warily, noticing the slightly maniacal gleam in his green eyes.

"Well, you're not gonna like it."

Ten minutes later, Dean came back downstairs with a duffle bag in his hand and a slightly crazy grin on his face.

Dr. Visyak's expression was the complete opposite. She looked absolutely terrified. "You know what?" she said nervously. "I—I don't like this at all. You _do_ realize that this is the single most valuable artifact you have ever touched?"

"It's also the only weapon we got. Look, I know what I'm doing, okay?" he assured her. "I actually learned it all from Bobby. Hey, whatever happened there, you know he's at least a genius at this." She nodded reluctantly. "Do you want me to kill that dragon or not?"

Visyak sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Trust me," he said, and she nodded again.

I knelt down beside Dean and muttered, "Are you sure about this? You heard her. You're about to destroy the love of this woman's life."

"Don't worry about it," Dean said with a shrug. "I got this." He turned back to the rock and started sticking C4 to it in random places. "You rocks think you're so smart," he said to the stone, and I rolled my eyes. "Alright. Welcome to the 21st century." He stood up and pulled me away. "Alright, stand back." The three of us exited the room, and I practically had to drag Dr. Visyak away. Dean closed the door firmly and pressed the button to detonate the charge.

The explosion shook the door, and Dr. Visyak winced and jumped back. "Sorry about this," I said to her, and she gave me a weak smile.

Dean opened the door and strode toward the stone. "Okay. Now..." He trailed off as he pulled the sword from the stone. It was broken in half.

"Shit…" I breathed as Dr. Visyak made a noise that sounded like a wounded animal. I placed a hand on her shoulder just in case she passed out. Honestly, I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

Dean gave her an awkward, apologetic grin. "You've got insurance for this, right?"

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

After apologizing endlessly for ten minutes to Dr. Visyak, we got into the Impala and made our way back to Oregon. The entire car ride consisted of me reprimanding Dean for destroying Visyak's life.

Once we got back to the hotel, Sam told us that the sewers seemed like a good place to look for the dragon. They were dark, secretive, and cave-like, plus two of the girls disappeared within a mile of one of the entrances.

So there we were, trekking through the sewers, and Dean had been complaining the entire time. "Ugh!" he whined, making a face. "God. Just when I get used to a smell, I hit a new flavor!" He stopped walking and crossed his arms in frustration. "Dude, we have been here for hours. There is nothing. I think the lore is off. Hey, what if, uh...What if dragons like nice hotels?" He looked at us hopefully, and I rolled my eyes.

I opened my mouth to tease him, but Sam suddenly said, "What is that?" He shined his flashlight over Dean's shoulder, and I followed the beam with my eyes. I let out a small gasp as I realized it was a pile of gold.

"What?" Dean said, turning and shining his flashlight on the pile as well. "Holy crap!" He bent down and picked up a gold watch from the pile. "Okay, maybe there _are _dragons here." He grinned up at me and handed me a simple gold chain.

"Wow," I breathed, squatting down beside him. "That's a _lot _of gold." I ran my fingers through the pile and slid a few of the rings on my fingers. "Ha!" I exclaimed. "We're rich!"

Dean nodded in agreement and started to say something, but, again, Sam broke in. "Wait," he said, sounding annoyed. "Guys... Not now. Check this out." I stood up and followed Sam over to some sort of altar. There was a big book in the center that was bound in something that looked like leather, but a suspicious feeling in my gut told me it was something else. "A little arts-and-crafty for a giant bat, right?" Sam said.

"Well, maybe they can take human form," I replied. "It's not unheard of. A bunch of stories have dragons that—"

"Hello?" a scared female voice called suddenly, and I jumped in surprise. "Is someone there? Hello?"

We followed the voice down the walkway. The sewer opened up into a larger room with gigantic grates covering the floor, and under the grates were the missing girls. A small, filthy hand was sticking up through the holes in one, and I dropped down and squeezed the hand reassuringly. "It's okay," I said softly. "We're gonna get you out of here. I'm Gari. What's your name?"

"P—Penny," the girl said shakily. "Penny Dessertine."

I smiled down at her. "Penny, we're gonna get you out, and we're gonna get you back to your sister, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, tears of relief flowing down her dirty cheeks. However, a sudden noise made her retract her hand and push back against the other girls. "Quick!" she urged. "He's coming back!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, I was knocked over onto the grate. I jumped to my feet, taking in the sight of Sam and Dean fighting two large men. _Ha! I was right! Human form!_ My self-appreciation was cut short, however, as Sam was shoved into me.

I stumbled backwards, and he reached his arms out to steady me. "Sorry!"

"Sammy, look out!" I yelped as one of the dragon-men swung his first at us. We ducked just in time, and Sam pushed the dragon across the room.

Right then, the dragon fighting Dean knocked the sword out of his hand and between two of the grates. He approached the older Winchester with a twisted grin on his face and an outstretched hand which started to glow brightly.

"Get the sword!" Dean called to us.

I scrambled over to the grate and reached down, my fingers just barely brushing the tip of the hilt. "Oh, come _on!_" I huffed. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sam knock his dragon down and head to help Dean.

"Gari, any time you feel like helping!" Dean yelled.

"I'm working on it!" I focused on the sword again and resituated myself to get a better angle. I bit my lip in concentration. "Almost… almost…" My hand closed around the very end of the hilt, and I pulled it out of the grate. "Got it!"

"Toss it!" Sam ordered, and I warily did as he said. I squeezed my eyes closed as the broken sword flew towards him, just knowing he was going to be impaled or something.

My eyes flew open as I heard a gasp of pain, but I soon realized that Sam had managed to stab the dragon attacking Dean. A bright, electric-looking light flashed over the dragon's body, and it fell to the ground, dead. Sam spun around to get the other dragon, but, with the loud flapping of wings and a large gust of wind, it vanished.

Sam spun the sword around in his hand, looking _very _proud of himself. He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet, grinning cockily. "My hero!" I said dramatically. I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him briefly. "Sam Winchester, dragon slayer," I teased. "It has a nice ring to it. You should make that your official title."

"Pretty impressive, huh?" he replied with a smirk.

"And sexy," I said, grinning wryly.

"Uh, hate to ruin the moment," Dean said suddenly, "but d'you two think you could save this for later? We have girls in sewer grates that need rescuing. That is, if it's not too much trouble for you, O Great Dragon Slayer."

Sam rolled his eyes, and I laughed happily, once again reveling in the fact that I had my Sammy back.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Dean and I were sitting outside of Bobby's house in one of the garages when Sam walked out. I put down the gold necklace in my hand and smiled brightly at the younger Winchester. Dean, however, continued to stare happily at the gold watch he was holding. "Hey, Sam," he said with a grin. "Ask me what time it is!"

Sam chuckled, but something about it sounded forced. _Uh-oh… _"Why don't you cut to the chase and just roll in it?" he joked halfheartedly.

Dean shrugged, unaffected by his brother's teasing. "I rarely have wealth."

Sam let his fake grin fade, and he pulled a chair up to our table and sat down heavily. "Dean..." he began slowly, and I could tell by the look in his bottomless eyes that he had found out about his missing year.

"Yeah?" Dean said, still staring down at his loot.

"I am so..._so_ sorry," Sam said quietly, and I closed my eyes in defeat. _Of _course _he's blaming himself. He _always _blames himself for things he can't control. _"I can't even begin to say…"

"For what?"

"You_ know_ what."

I nudged Dean with my foot, and he looked up at me confusedly. Apparently, the look I gave him was enough for him to realize what was going on. He frowned deeply and looked at his brother attentively. "Did Bobby...?" he began.

Sam shook his head. "Cas," he corrected.

I sighed, and Dean said, "Cas. Friggin' child."

"You two should have told me." He regarded me sadly, and I looked away ashamedly.

"But you weren't supposed to know," I said, shaking my head. "Sam, you—"

"What I did?" he interrupted. "To Bobby? To the two of you? Of _course_ I should know," he argued.

Dean made a low noise of frustration. "Sam, Death didn't just shove your soul back in, okay? He put up the Great Wall of Sam between you and the things that you don't remember. And trust me when I say that the things you don't know could kill you! That's not a joke."

"Alright," Sam said with a nod. "But I have to set things right. Or what I can, anyway."

"It wasn't you!" I said for what seemed like the millionth time since Sam had come back.  
"You had no _soul_. It wasn't you."

Sam considered me for a minute, and then he shook his head slowly. "Y'know, I kind of feel like I got slipped the worst mickey of all time, and I woke up to find out that I'd burnt the whole city down. And you can say it wasn't me, but I'm the one with the Zippo in my pocket, y'know? So I'm not sure it's that cut and dry." He stared down at his hands and continued softly, "And, look, I appreciate you trying to protect me. I really do. But I gotta fix... what I gotta fix. So I need to know what I did."

"But you don't know how dangerous that could be," Dean protested.

"What would _you_ do?" The younger Winchester fixed his brother with a hard stare. Dean looked away uncomfortably. "Right. Same thing."

I grabbed one of Sam's hands and threaded my fingers through his. He squeezed my hand slightly, and I bit my lip. "Sammy..." I started, unsure of what I was going to say. I just needed to find another way for him to believe that this wasn't his fault. I couldn't stand it when he felt guilty.

Bobby walked up at that moment. He frowned at the three of us, and I wondered what was upsetting him. "There's something I think you oughta see."

"What is it, Bobby?" I asked as we followed him back into the house.

He led us into the study and sat down behind the desk. I noticed that the book we had stolen from the dragons' altar was laying open in front of him. "Now, as near as I can figure it," he said, "this dates back around the fourteenth century."

Sam peered down at it curiously. "What language is it?"

"Da Vinci Code," Bobby shrugged. "Real obscure Latinate. Gonna take me my golden years to translate it all. Oh, and, uh, FYI," he said as Dean ran his fingers over the book, "that ain't paper."

Dean looked up at him confusedly. "What is it?"

"It's human skin." Dean made a face and jerked his hand away from the book. "Okay," Bobby said, getting back to business, "I'm fairly clear on this first bit. It basically describes this place. It's like the backside of your worst nightmares. It's all blood and bone and darkness, filled with the bodies and souls of all things hungry, sharp, and nasty."

"Monsters?" Sam asked.

Bobby nodded. "It's Monsterland. Accordin' to this, it goes by many names, most of which I can't pronounce, but I'm thinkin' ya know—"

"Purgatory," I guessed, though I was pretty sure I was right. Bobby nodded again.

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Purgatory? _Awesome_. Well, that is good to know." He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "So, you're saying that these, uh, dragon freaks were squatting in the sewers and reading tone poems about _Purgatory_?"

"Something tells me it's not that simple," I muttered.

"Gari's right," the older man said. "They're not readin' stories. They're readin' an instruction manual."

"What?" Dean asked sharply.

"Yeah," Bobby confirmed. "If you're nuts enough to want access to a place that gnarly, this book'll show you how to open a door."

"Door to Purgatory," Dean said wonderingly. "Well, I know a demon who would've _loved_ to have known about that. So, how d'you open the door?"

Bobby shrugged. "Ask Cloverfield. I'm pretty sure he's got that page." He showed us the book, and, sure enough, there was a page missing. "And it gets worse."

"Worse?" Sam repeated warily.

"This ain't talkin' about how to take a vacation over there. This is all about openin' a door to let somethin' in."

"Bring something _here_? _What_?"

Bobby sighed. "I'm workin' on it."

"C'mon, old man," I said, leaning forward onto the desk. "Give us something, _anything_."

The older man rubbed his forehead and stared down at the book. "I got a name."

"What is it?"

"Mother."

"_Mother_?" Sam echoed. "Mother of what? Mother of dragons?"

Bobby shook his head. "I wish. It says it a few times here. Mother of All."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What the hell does 'Mother of All' mean?"

"I dunno. But, whatever it is, you can bet it's not good."

The four of us fell silent, each thinking about what the hell we could've gotten ourselves into this time. _So stopping the Apocalypse and dealing with a soulless Sam for a year wasn't enough,_ I whined to myself. _Now we've gotta deal with Purgatory and the Mother of All, too. God, will we _ever _catch a break?_

**6,694 words! Woo!**

**It is my beddy-bye time, so I am going to sleep now. Sorry if there are any errors in this; I'll read over and edit it when I get the chance.**

**So, without further ado, I bid you goodnight!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	16. I Want To Get Lost In You

**Hi there! This is going to be a very short author's note, just quick enough for me to say I'M SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE.**

**And duuudes, I really delved into my fluffy side for this. Like, it's almost sickening, even to me.**

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**ENJOY.**

A day or so later, we pulled up outside Ella and Dean's house. We had called ahead and told Ella about Sam already, so hopefully she wouldn't be too shocked.

"Aw, it's so _cute_," Sam teased his brother, a wide, mocking grin spreading over his face.

"Shut up," Dean snapped halfheartedly, though his lip twitched upward at the corners, as if he was trying to hold back a smile.

I smiled freely, happy that we had moved past Sam finding out about the Death deal. I knew that he was just biding his time until he could assault one of us about what he did, but, for the moment, we were all getting along fine.

We got out of the car and headed up the stairs. Before we could even knock, the door flew open, and there was a loud exclamation of "Sam!" as Ella slung her arms around the younger Winchester's waist. "I can't believe you're back!"

"Whoa, hey, Elle," Sam laughed as he returned her hug. "It's good to see you. How are the kids?"

I grinned a little at the shock on Ella's face. She obviously hadn't expected him to remember that she had been pregnant when he died. "They're great!" she said finally. "Wanna see them?" He nodded eagerly, and we all followed her into the house.

"Hey, Sam!" a young voice called from the couch, and I looked over and saw Devon, Jess, and Emily sitting there. "Hey, Gari!" the same voice said, and the blonde teenager grinned at us. _I should've known it was Dev_.

"Hey… Devon, right?" Sam said, struggling to remember. Devon nodded, obviously confused, but she thankfully didn't say anything. He looked at her younger sister. "And Jess," he said. I knew he wouldn't have forgotten her name. It _was _the name of his dead girlfriend, after all. He turned finally to Emily, and a blank look crossed his face. "And, um…"

"Emily," the girl said helpfully. "I'm Emily."

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you," he said, and he gave her a small smile.

She blushed and said, "Same here." Devon glared at her, and the message was clear in her eyes: _He's mine!_

I laughed at their antics and twined my fingers through Sam's. I knew that Devon and Emily were just playing around, but I decided to go along with it and act like the overly jealous girlfriend. "Back off, girls," I said warningly. "He's with me."

"But I thought—" Devon started, but, at a stern look from me, she stayed quiet.

"I'll explain later," I said, and she nodded.

"Well, c'mon," Ella said, coming back into the living room. "D'ya wanna see them or not?"

"Of course, Elle," Sam told her, smiling apologetically, and he dragged me along with him toward the nursery. When we got there, Dean was holding Sami and grinning down at her as she chewed contentedly on his amulet. Sam seemed to notice he was wearing it for the first time. "You found it!" he said happily.

A look of confusion crossed Dean's face, but, as he followed Sam's gaze, he realized what he was talking about. "Yeah, y'know, you could've just _given _it to me," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Would you really have taken it back?" Sam asked, giving his brother a knowing look. He and Dean both knew that they hadn't been on the best of terms before he decided to jump into the Cage. Sam's desire to sacrifice himself had brought the brothers back together in some kind of sick way, but, by that time, it was too late for Sam to worry about the amulet. When you're saving the world, jewelry loses its importance, even if it _is _a symbol of your relationship.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Ella broke in, hands on her hips, "but my babies meetin' their uncle for the first time is a little more important than that necklace."

"You're right, babe," Dean said, grinning at her affectionately. "Why don't you make the introductions, then?"

"Gimme my child and I might," she snapped, holding her arms out for her daughter.

"Why don't you get Johnny first?" he asked, pouting slightly. "My baby girl's been away from her daddy for too long."

Ella rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm practically a single mama, havin' to raise these kids on my own, but fine. Have it your way, even though you're never home. Y'know, if ya treated any other woman like ya did me, they'd have left ya a _long _time ago."

"I know," he said, snaking his free arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. "That's why I love you."

She giggled, unable to keep up the stern act any longer. "I love ya, too," she replied. "Now gimme the dang baby."

"I'm scared for these kids," I whispered conspiratorially to Sam, and he grinned. "With parents like these, I can only imagine how they're gonna turn out."

"Ya questionin' my parentin' skills?" Ella asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

"No, ma'am!" I said hurriedly, and she shook her head in exasperation.

"Anyway," she started, walking over to Sam and me. She had finally pried Sami from Dean's arms, and now the little girl was regarding Sam with wide, curious eyes. "This is Sami," Ella said, smiling brightly at the look on Sam's face.

"You… you named your kid after _me_?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, um, we thought ya were dead," Ella replied. "It seemed kinda… _right_." She shrugged embarrassedly and glanced down at Sami. "Ya wanna hold her?" she asked the younger Winchester.

His eyes widened. "Uh, I dunno if I—I'm not really sure—I've never—" he stuttered nervously, but Ella broke in.

"Oh, shush!" she said. "Just take the baby!" She practically thrust Sami into Sam's arms. "I swear, you're worse than Gari!"

The minute the baby was in Sam's arms, something just clicked into place. He smiled softly down at Sami and offered her his finger to hold onto. The baby girl gurgled happily and gazed up at him with her big green eyes.

As I stared at the two of them, this weird pain started in my heart, and I realized that it was _longing_—longing so intense that it hurt. I wanted Sam to be holding _our _baby; I wanted that to be _our _future. I wanted us to get out of the life, and I wanted Sam's wall to hold up forever, and I wanted me to be normal. I wanted to be happy, _actually _happy, and not just be trying to make the most of what little time we surely had before we met some terrible end.

Ella broke me out of my impossible thoughts when she thrust Johnny into my arms. "Here, hold him," she ordered, and I had no choice but to oblige.

Sam lifted his eyes to meet mine, and something passed between us. I knew somehow that he was having the same thoughts that I had had not ten seconds ago, and I knew by the sadness in those hazel depths that he was thinking of how impossible it would be, too.

_At least Ella and Dean can have a moderately normal life_, I thought, trying to be slightly optimistic. _If I can't be happy, at least Ella can. She comes first. She's always come first._

_You're very sappy today, aren't you? _the voice popped up, its tone dripping with sarcasm. _Oooh, normal life, normal Sam, normal Gari! _it mocked. _How pathetic._

_Shut up. You wouldn't understand. You're just an imaginary voice in my head._

_We've had this discussion before. Of course it's happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean it's not real?_

_Don't you dare quote Dumbledore at me!_

"Um, Gari?" Ella said, and, by the way everyone was looking at me, I guessed that she'd been trying to get my attention for a while.

"Sorry." I shook my head slightly, and the voice chuckled in the back of my mind. "What were we talking about?"

"I asked if ya wanted to come help me in the kitchen," Elle said. "I was in the middle of makin' brownies for the girls when y'all got here, and they should be just about done by now. I could use another pair of hands." She gave me a look, a _we need to talk_ look, and I knew that it wasn't up for discussion.

"Okay, sure." I carefully passed Johnny over to Dean, and the baby copied his sister's action from earlier by promptly sticking his father's amulet in his mouth.

I followed Ella into the kitchen, and, as soon as I walked in, she shut the door behind me. "So how is he?" she asked as she turned to face me.

"He's… he's great, Elle," I said, allowing a wide grin to spread over my face. "He's _fantastic_."

She frowned, which I found _very _odd and discouraging. "And he really doesn't remember anything?"

"Nothing," I confirmed with a nod, my smile faltering the slightest bit. "Not the Cage, not being soulless, nothing. Elle, are you—are you _crying_?"

She hurriedly turned away, and her hands moved to cover her face. "N—no," she denied weakly. I hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She spun back around to face me, and her eyes were red and puffy. "So he doesn't remember Milla?" she asked, and, despite the fact that her bottom lip was trembling, her voice was strong.

I blinked at her slowly as realization hit me. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"He doesn't even remember that he murdered my sister," she stated flatly.

"Elle…" I opened my arms to her, and she hugged me tightly. "I'm sorry."

"But… but that's good, right?" she said shakily, her voice muffled against my chest. "I—I mean, this is Sam we're talkin' about, and, if he knew, he'd never forgive himself, would he?"

"No, he wouldn't," I agreed quietly.

"So… so we're just gonna keep all this from him?"

"What else can we do?" I tried not to let how hopeless I felt seep into my voice. "If we tell him any of the major stuff, it might break the wall. I mean, he knows that he was soulless for a while, and he knows that he was a total dick and did horrible things to all of us, but if we tell him stuff like the fact that he killed your sister or let Dean turn into a vamp or tried to kill Bobby… Well, we can't risk that."

"What about what he did to _you_?" she asked. "Will ya tell him _that_?"

"I dunno," I answered honestly. "None of the stuff he did to me is as bad as the stuff he did to you and Dean and Bobby, so I doubt it would damage the wall, but I dunno if I could deal with all the guilt he'll feel because of it. You know how he is—how he and Dean _both_ are—everything is his fault, even if it isn't at all."

She sniffled a little and pulled away. "I still think ya should tell him," she said. "'Cause even though ya may not realize it, ya might let it come between y'all. If ya get it off your chest, it'll be easier to just be together."

"I dunno, Elle. Maybe."

"Anyway, let's stop bein' sad now, 'kay?" she said, that thousand-watt smile back on her face. "Ya still gotta explain everythin' to Dev and Jess and Em, especially Dev. And then we can watch _Firefly_!"

"Weren't you guys planning on watching that a _long_ time ago?" I asked.

"Yeah, we got delayed... We're s'posed to start the fourth episode today."

"'_Shindig_?'" I exclaimed happily. "That's my favorite! Well, besides 'Safe' and 'Out of Gas' and 'War Stories…'"

"Of course you'd know the names of all the episodes," Ella said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "C'mon, Miss Browncoat. Let's go watch some _Firefly_!"

As we walked out of the kitchen, Devon popped up from her spot of the couch and bounced over to give me a hug. "So're you gonna tell me what's going on now?" she asked as she released me. "I mean, you said you and Sam aren't together anymore, but then when you came in—"

"Let's just say that we worked it out," I interrupted.

"But he hit on me!"

"Um…" _Shit, I didn't wanna have to explain this… _I looked to Ella for help, and she just shrugged helplessly. "Okay, this is going to be really difficult to understand, and I'm sorry that I can't really explain it. It's confusing to me, too."

"Come sit down so we can hear, too!" Emily piped up from one of the armchairs. I laughed and did as she said, sitting down on the couch in between Devon and Jess, and Ella curled up in the other armchair. Emily propped her head on her hand and stared at me intently. "Okay, go!" she ordered, giving me a large grin.

I bit my lip, trying to think of the quickest and easiest way to explain. "Well, um… All that time you guys knew Sam, I mean after you met him the first time… Well… he didn't have a soul."

"Wait, _what_?" all three girls exclaimed.

"How's that work?" Jess asked, her eyes wide with shock.

"…It's complicated…" I said slowly. "Just… he's back to normal now, and _we're _back together."

"What did he do to you when he was soulless that broke you up?" Devon inquired interestedly.

I stared down at my hands. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Did he cheat on you?" Emily asked.

"Um—"

"_Okay_!" Ella interrupted all of a sudden, and I shot her a grateful look. "That's enough! Now let's watch some _Firefly_!"

"Let's go get something to drink first!" Devon suggested, and the three girls got up and headed into the kitchen. "You want a Dr. Pepper, Gari?" she asked, poking her head around the door.

"No, thanks, Dev," I replied.

"I don't want one, either; thanks for offerin'!" Ella snapped playfully. Devon just grinned and disappeared inside the kitchen once again. "I think she might like ya a little bit, Gari," Ella said, smiling brightly.

"Let's just hope she doesn't see me as a role model or something," I said. "I'd be a _terrible _person to look up to."

Just then, Sam and Dean came into the living room. "What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Come sit down!" I ordered, patting the space beside me. "Watch _Firefly_ with us!"

"What's _Firefly_?" he asked, but he came and sat down anyway.

"Only the best space western of all time!" Devon said as she, Jess, and Emily came out of the kitchen, each toting a Dr. Pepper can.

"Space western?" he echoed confusedly.

"Dude, it's _awesome_," Dean assured him as he walked over to Ella. She stood up and let him sit down in the armchair; then she folded herself up in his lap.

"You guys are adorable," I teased.

Ella giggled, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

"Hey, you took our seats!" Jess whined as she saw Sam and me.

I stretched my legs out across the couch and stuck my tongue out at her. "I've got seniority!" I said with a grin.

"_Fine_," she huffed, and she and Devon grabbed a few pillows from under the coffee table and dragged them in front of the couch. Emily smirked at them from her place on the other armchair, and the sisters gave her an identical set of death glares.

"Alright, you can start it," Devon said as she popped her Dr. Pepper open.

As Ella pressed play on the remote, Sam's arm went around my shoulders, and I found myself instinctively curling into him. There we were, sitting on the couch and watching TV like a normal couple. It was weird and natural and sad and happy, all at the same time.

"Adorable," Dean mouthed at me, and I rolled my eyes, though I was unable to keep the grin off my face.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I sat on the porch steps and stared out at the yard. It was a lot more unkempt than it had been when I first saw it, but I supposed it would be since Dean started hunting again.

Devon, Jess, and Emily had left about an hour ago, after we'd watched two episodes of _Firefly_ and gotten Sam officially hooked. He had even protested when the girls said we couldn't watch any without them, which I found both adorable and hilarious. We'd make a geek of him yet!

Now Ella had roped Sam and Dean into helping her cook something-or-other, and I had quickly slipped out of the house with the lame excuse of needing some air. Really, I just knew how hopeless Ella and I _both_ were at cooking, and I didn't feel like getting my eardrums busted by the fire alarm.

Plus I just really needed to get away from both Ella and Sam. I needed to think about what I was going to do. It had been a big enough risk for Cas to even tell Sam _anything_, and, knowing how easily he felt guilty about anything to do with me, this could be the final push to break the wall.

All of a sudden, I sensed someone beside me. I knew instantly who it was.

"You're getting braver and braver," I mused, still not looking at the demon beside me.

"I figured I'd have to catch you whenever you're alone," Meg said. "'Cause I knew you'd rarely leave Sam's side." I smiled a little, but it faded quickly. "Why aren't you with him now?" she asked.

"I'm a little overwhelmed," I told her, finally looking at her, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The deal we made with Death made it so that Sam has a wall in his head holding back his memories of Hell and his soulless days," I explained. "He knows about the deal now, and he knows how bad he was without a soul, but he doesn't know what he did. And he _can't_ know. Because, if he does, it might break the wall. And we dunno what could happen then."

"So, taking all that into account, what's the deal with the mopey face?" Meg narrowed her eyes at me, clearly trying to figure out my thought process.

I sighed and dropped my head in my hands. "What he did to me isn't anything major," I said, my voice coming out muffled. "So Ella says that I should tell him. She says that the secret of what he did might come between us. At first, I didn't think it would, but now… I just don't know." I looked up at her again, and she _actually_ looked concerned. "Now I feel like I'm lying to him, even though it's all to protect him. And I'm starting to think it _will _come between us. He'll keep asking me what he did, and I'll keep blowing him off, and then we'll fight, and then—ugh!" I closed my eyes and dropped my head again. "I just dunno what to do." I lifted my head and gave a small, mirthless laugh. "And now I'm telling my troubles to a demon."

Meg frowned. "You should tell him," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"You should tell him," she repeated. "You said it yourself. It'll just come between the two of you. And if the stuff he did isn't too serious, why not tell him? I mean, he already knows he was soulless, and he already knows he did terrible things, so telling him the _least _terrible of the bunch shouldn't be too bad, should it?"

"My God," I said wonderingly.

"What?"

"I'm about to take advice from a demon."

She laughed. "You're welcome." Her smile faded, and she furrowed her eyebrows as she pulled a flask out of her pocket. "I'm about to give you this blood, but I want you to try to stop. Try to get yourself off of it. _That _is something that's gonna come between you and Sam."

"I didn't ask for your advice on _that_," I said coldly, snatching the flask out of her hand.

"Don't do this to yourself, Gari," she pleaded. "Really, don't. Don't let me be soft for no reason."

I glared at her. "I've got the blood; you can go now. Thanks for your delivery."

She gave me a sad, pitying look. "Get off it. I'm serious."

I looked away briefly, then glanced back, about to say something particularly rude, but she was already gone.

A few minutes later, the front door opened, and I turned to see Sam walking toward me. "You alright?" he asked as he sat down on the steps.

"I'm always alright," I said quietly, staring out at the yard again.

"You lying?"

I grinned slightly. "Well, 'alright' _is _special Time Lord code for 'really not alright at all.'"

"That's what I thought," he sighed. "What's wrong?"

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm not really sure you're ready to see that list yet. It's pretty long."

"I'm sure I can handle it," Sam assured me, placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing gently.

"I'm not."

I could tell that he was annoyed before he even spoke. He made a low, frustrated noise in the back of his throat and said, "Will you just—"

"Hey, lovebirds," Dean interrupted all of a sudden, poking his head out of the doorway. _Dean Winchester, you're my hero!_

I spun around quickly. "Yeah?" I said, hopefully keeping the relief out of my voice.

"Time to eat!"

Sam and I looked at each other for a long moment, and I tried to convey my apology through my eyes. He nodded slightly, telling me I was forgiven, but I knew this discussion wasn't over.

He stood and offered me his hand, and I took it gratefully, letting him pull me to my feet. "Later," he said quietly, and I frowned. I still hadn't decided whether I would tell him or not, and I had no idea when the right time to tell him would be.

As we walked into the kitchen, the smell of something burning assaulted my nose. "Oh, God, what'd you set on fire?" I asked, feigning disappointment. "Did Ella forget that frozen pizzas have to be taken out of the box first?"

"No!" Ella protested, blushing furiously.

"Yes," Dean deadpanned. Ella shot him a glare, and he grinned cheekily back at her.

"I'm hoping we had a back-up plan?" I said, glancing between the two of them.

"Actually, the pizza _was_ the back-up plan…" Ella said, avoiding my eyes and playing with a strand of her hair uncomfortably. "We had a fancy pasta thing as our first plan."

"So… why did you say it was time to eat?"

"Because we had a _back-up_ back-up plan," Sam replied.

"Which is…?"

"Ta-da!" Ella said, gesturing toward the table. "We got ya that weird _MorningStar _vegetarian stuff!"

"Oh, Elle, I'm touched!" I told her, placing a hand over my heart. "It must've taken you so long to cook this beautiful pre-cooked, frozen meal!"

"Oh, shush!" she huffed, swatting her hand at my arm.

We all sat down at the table, and I noticed that the others were eating frozen meals, too. "Is that… is that _Kid Cuisine_?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Hey, don't judge!" Dean said indignantly.

"What are you, _five_?" I glanced over at Sam's tray, and suddenly my insults faded away. "I want your brownie," I told him.

"But… but _I _wanted my brownie," he said, giving me a weak, teasing form of his puppy dog eyes.

"Too bad!" I darted my hand across and snatched the brownie out of the tray. He grabbed my wrist as I was drawing back, and I yelped, "Lemme go! Gimme the brownie!"

"It's _my _brownie!" he argued, trying to unclench my fist with his free hand. "You're squishing it!"

"Yeah, and _we're _the five-year-olds," Dean muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Winchester?" I snapped, and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Nothing, nothing!"

"That's what I thought!" I focused my attention back on Sam, who had almost gotten my fist open. "So help me, Sam, I will _bite _you if you do not let me have the damn brownie!" I growled. He gave me a wicked grin, and I rolled my eyes. "Just let it _go_!"

"No, _you _let it go!"

"Fine! You asked for it!" I bent my head down and nipped his hand with my teeth.

He immediately released me with an overly-exaggerated "Ow!"

I grinned triumphantly. "I told you!"

"Yeah, but I didn't think you were _serious_," he mumbled. Suddenly, a confused look crossed his face.

"What's wrong?" Ella, who had been rolling with laughter during our fight, asked him worriedly, and the light, happy mood died down considerably.

Sam stared at me, looking like he was trying to remember something. "Have we argued like that over something before?" he asked.

My eyes widened slowly, and I could sense Dean's anxiety. I quickly regained my composure, but not before I saw that Sam had noticed my miniature freak-out. "Um, no, I don't think so," I lied, trying not to look him in the eye. "I don't often fight like that. Brownies are just a special case."

"Oh, okay," he said slowly, though I knew he wasn't convinced.

_He's remembering our fight when I was drunk… But he was soulless then! He's not supposed to remember that!_

_Maybe Death didn't do as good of a job as you thought, _the voice said, and its presence startled me. I hadn't heard from it in a few days. _Maybe not even a wall put up by _Death _is strong enough to hold back those memories of the Cage._

_Shut up. You're not helping._

_I wasn't intending to._

"Anyway…" Ella said, snapping me out of my mental conversation. "Gari, some of your stuff is still in the guest room, so y'all are free to stay in there." A sly grin spread over her face. "Or y'all could go get a hotel room," she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. "That's prob'ly the best idea. Bobby told me y'all can get loud."

Sam blushed, and I could feel my face growing hot, too. "Oh, shut up," I muttered embarrassedly.

The rest of the meal passed with a bunch of good-natured banter and the continued arguing over brownies. I finally caved and broke mine in half, deciding to be nice and share with Sam. He gave me that adorable lopsided grin and teased me about how easily I gave in to him. Of course, that set Dean off on an innuendo tangent, and Sam and I both resembled tomatoes by the time we were finished eating.

All-in-all, it was a pretty near perfect day.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I flipped on the light switch and grinned. "Isn't this the same room as last time?" I asked Sam as we walked in.

"Looks like it," he agreed.

I dropped my hastily-packed bag by the door and looked around. "Should I be happy or sad about this? We didn't really have the best memories here."

Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. "What d'you—oh."

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"That's when you told me about Camilla and Greg."

"And that I was leaving when you were gone."

"How did that—?"

"Okay!" I interrupted, clapping my hands together twice and reminding myself of Ella. "Enough with the sad talk!" I looped my arms around his neck and grinned. "We are alone, _truly_ alone, for the first time since you got back." I kissed him briefly. "This is _not _the time to be sad." I let go of him and walked to the bed, where I plopped down on the edge and started taking off my combat boots.

"Since when d'you carry a flask?" he asked curiously from behind me, and I froze in shock and horror.

Panic seized my entire body and mind. _Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! What am I supposed to say? It's over! He's found me out! Oh, God, what the fuck do I _do_?_

_Well, calming down would be a nice first step_, the voice remarked sarcastically.

I took a deep, shaky breath and turned to face Sam. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I still had no clue what to say. My mind was completely blank, and I actually started pleading with the voice to help me. Of course, it chose _then_ to stay silent. My eyes flitted nervously from Sam to the flask, and I wondered bewilderedly why he looked so calm.

And then I understood.

The flask was just that—a flask. It was the one I used for alcohol, not blood. Once I calmed down, I remembered that the blood flask was hidden in the guest room's closet under a pile of my clothes. I hadn't used the alcohol flask since the night I had drunk sex with Soulless Sam, but I guessed I just hadn't bothered to take it out of my bag.

I let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through my hair as all of my paranoia drained away. "Oh," I said with a nervous laugh. "Once you… well…" I shrugged embarrassedly. "I had trouble sleeping. It helped." _Just not with the nightmare._

He put down the flask and moved to sit beside me. "Gari, I—"

"Nuh-uh." I cut him off, holding up my hand to silence him. "I don't wanna hear it. This is officially a guilt-free zone."

"I need to know what I did to you," he argued.

"_No_, you don't. You already know too much. We dunno how much strain the wall in your head can take. I'm not risking it."

"Gari, I've gotta know what I did," he pleaded, giving me those serious, sad puppy eyes I had missed so much. "I've gotta know what I did so I can make it up to you."

I laughed softly. "When are you gonna learn?" I asked him. "You never need to apologize to me. You never need to make anything up to me. Especially when it _wasn't you_."

"I wish you'd stop saying that," he sighed.

"And _I _wish _you _would stop blaming yourself for something you couldn't control!" I snapped. I immediately bit my lip and looked down at my lap. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I just hate seeing you so guilty. You're _not _guilty. And the things the soulless you did to me—they're nothing. I have the _real_ you now, and that's all that matters."

"Gari—"

"Samuel whatever-your-middle-name-is Winchester!" I exclaimed, turning toward him and cupping his face in my hands. "If you're gonna be such a downer, why the hell did we get this hotel room? You're ruining the mood!" I gave him a quick kiss before he could get another word in.

He broke away with a small laugh. "How is it that you know _exactly _how to shut me up?" he asked wonderingly.

"Because I'm brilliant," I said with a shrug. I ran my hands up to rest on his chest and smirked. "Now… what to do with our alone time…?"

"I have a few ideas," he said, resting his forehead on mine.

"Oh, yeah? _Do _tell."

He grinned wryly before he pulled me even closer and pressed his lips to mine. I leaned into him with a soft moan as his tongue entered my mouth. Our hands roamed over each other hungrily, both of us overwhelmed and ecstatic to be with each other again.

"_Fantastic _idea," I breathed as we came up for air.

"I know," he replied, and then he kissed me again.

_Yeah_, I thought to myself as we fell back on the bed, _this day is absolutely _perfect_._

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I woke up with a jolt and found myself sitting straight up in bed. Sam was already up beside me, rubbing my back comfortingly. I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes. "What was it?" he asked quietly.

I didn't reply. I couldn't tell him that my nightmare had been about the soulless him attacking me. He couldn't know that. The guilt would kill him.

"What did I do to you?" My eyes popped open, and I quickly pulled away and stared at my hands in my lap. It seemed he had already guessed that the nightmare was about him. "Garideth, please," he begged, and I could tell just by his voice that he was using his puppy dog eyes. "Tell me. I wanna know. I _need_ to know."

I glanced at him through a curtain of my hair, and I sighed in defeat. He was right. This was Sam—he _did_ need to know. I would've been the exact same way. I exhaled deeply and pushed my hair back behind my ear, and I turned to face him and said, "Promise me something first."

"What?" he asked warily.

"You won't try to 'make it up to me;' you won't get all guilty and mopey; you won't even _apologize_." I prodded my finger into his chest as he opened his mouth to argue. "Uh-uh. I know how you get. _None _of this was your fault, and I'm not gonna let you act like it was."

"Okay."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Promise?"

He sighed. "I promise."

I nodded in satisfaction. "Good." I suddenly felt nervous. _What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to just straight up tell him everything he did? I didn't even decide until two seconds ago that I was gonna tell him!_

"Well, first," I began slowly," what you've gotta understand is that what the soulless you did to me is nothing. I mean, out of everyone, I'm the one you did the least to. I really don't know why I'm having nightmares about you because, compared to everyone else, you treated me like a fucking princess. I mean—"

"Gari," Sam interrupted gently.

I gave an anxious laugh. "Sorry, I was rambling, wasn't I?"

He nodded, smiling fondly at me, but his eyes were sad and troubled. "Just tell me," he urged, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

I took a deep breath. "You cheated on me, you shot me, and you knocked me out with a crowbar and locked me in the panic room," I rushed out. "You also treated me like I was an idiot, but that's really the least offensive of the bunch. Oh! And you cut off my favorite Godsmack song!" I added as an afterthought, hoping to take that disgusted look off his face.

It didn't work. "Gari," he started, dropping his hand from my shoulder. "I—I can't believe—I'm so sor—"

I stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips. "_No apologies_," I said forcefully. "It wasn't _you_, Sam." I tried to take his hand, but he jerked away. "Dammit, Sammy!" I yelped angrily. I snatched his hand up in my own and squeezed it hard. "Don't _do _this! Don't let this come between us!"

"Gari—"

"_No_. If anyone should be having doubts about us, it's me. And I'm _clearly _not. Because it _wasn't you_!"

"That doesn't change anything," he argued as he tried to pull his hand out of mine.

I tightened my grip. "_Yes_, it does!" I snapped back. "Your body, maybe, and your memories, but _not you_."

"He had my memories?" Sam asked quietly, and I frowned, confused.

"Yeah, so?"

"So he—_I _remembered you and everything we'd been through, and I still did all of that?"

I resisted the urge to groan. "Sam, _stop_. That other you had no soul, no moral compass, no _humanity_. That's where you're different. That's how I _know _it wasn't you. The _real _you—the you that's here right now, the you that I love—you're not capable of those things."

"But what if I am?"

This time, when he tried to pull his hand away, I let him. I let out that frustrated groan I'd been holding in. _This is hopeless. He's never gonna listen to me._

Suddenly, I had an idea.

"D'you remember Carl and Nell?" I asked him.

He gave me a brief questioning look; then he looked away again, but not before I saw the guilt in his eyes. "How could I forget?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's the same thing," I said. "When Carl possessed you, those things you did weren't _you_; they were him. He even had access to your memories—or, he would've if you hadn't stopped him."

"I only stopped him after I stabbed you," he muttered rebelliously.

"Shut up; that's not the point!" I snapped, slapping his arm. He shrugged indifferently. "The _point_," I continued, "is that Carl had your memories, too. But he still wasn't you. And neither was the Soulless Sam. You being soulless was the _exact _same thing." He finally looked at me again, and there was something like hope in his eyes. He was beginning to believe me. I reached for his hand again, and this time he didn't pull away. "That wasn't you, okay?" I said softly. "If it was, d'you think I'd be here right now?"

He gave me a small smile. "Okay, fine," he relented. "You win."

I grinned widely. "Well, duh. I always win." All of a sudden, his smile faltered, and he looked away again. "What?" I asked worriedly. "What is it?"

"I did then, too, y'know," he mumbled.

"Did what when?" I scrunched my eyebrows, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

"Cheated on you," he explained. "With Ella."

"Wait, _what_?" I yelped, now utterly lost—and a bit pissed. "You and _Elle_—_When_?"

"When Carl and Nell possessed us."

"Oh." I let out a relieved laugh and ran a hand through my hair. "_Oh_. Oh, that—that's nothing. Wasn't you, remember?" He nodded unsurely. "Wait, wait, wait," I said. "How much did you two _do_?"

"Not sex!" Sam said hurriedly, looking very flustered. "Just… what d'you always say… snogging?"

I laughed lightly. Who knew the word "snogging" could sound so adorable?

"Then, yeah, that's nothing," I assured him. A sudden thought occurred to me. "Sam?" I said slowly.

"Hm?"

"We weren't even together then."

He blushed and chuckled embarrassedly. "No, but I wished we were…"

I gave a disbelieving laugh. "You goofball!" I exclaimed, shoving him playfully. "I can't believe I had to land in the hospital for you to make a move!"

"Hey, you weren't making a move, either!" he retorted, that small half-grin appearing on his face.

"Touché," I said thoughtfully.

"And you're _very _intimidating," he added. "Dean told me multiple times that you'd eat me alive, and, for a while there, I believed him."

"He called me feral," I said, remembering our first trip to Abbeville.

"You _heard _that?"

"Oh, yes!" I confirmed, grinning cheekily at him. "And what d'you think of me _now_?"

"Hm…" He settled back down on his pillow and turned to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. I did the same, waiting impatiently for his answer. As he thought, our hands found each other again, and I twined my fingers through his. "You're still intimidating," he said finally, and I rolled my eyes. "You're smart, and you're strong, and you're sad."

"Sad?" I echoed confusedly. "I've never been happier than I am right now."

He gave me this _look_, this look that seemed to bore all the way into my soul, and I could feel just about every wall I had breaking down. He was right—I _was_ sad: sad for the future, sad for the present, and especially sad for the past. And I suddenly realized that he knew that feeling, too.

My eyes started to prickle, and he finally broke eye contact. I blinked rapidly to clear away those pesky tears, and I smiled warmly at him.

"And you're beautiful," he continued, as if none of that had just happened.

"Oh, shut up," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're so cheesy."

He just grinned and brought my hand to his lips, gently grazing them over my knuckles. "Think you can sleep?" he asked softly, his mouth moving against my hand.

I shivered slightly at his touch. "Not if you keep up with the sappy romance thing," I teased, and he chuckled. "Yeah, I think I can sleep," I answered seriously. "But, just in case, we should probably cuddle," I suggested with a nonchalant shrug.

"I can live with that," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him.

As I rested my head on his chest and listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat, I knew I wouldn't have to worry about nightmares anymore.

**6,825 words! What is up with me writing such long chapters now?**

**Anyway, I hope the pure fluffiness (and slight angsty-ness) didn't make you wanna puke.**

**I'll check for errors whenever I have the time. It's a bit late here.**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	17. I'll Be There To Take Your Hurt

**Helllllllllllllllllllo, my lovely readers. I am on Spring Break right now! And d'you know what that means?**

**FREQUENT UPDATES.**

**I am posting this chapter, and tomorrow, I am posting a mini-chapter, and Thursday, I'm posting a super long chapter!**

**I have too much free time this break.**

**Anyway, without further ado, I give you jealous Gari and Soulless Sam flashbacks!**

**ENJOY.**

After leaving Abbeville, the boys and I had taken a few simple cases, all the while waiting for Bobby to find out some more about the whole Mother of All thing. So far, we had nothing.

While Bobby was up to the neck in Purgatory research, we were taking a rest stop at a random motel on the side of the road. Sam had been trying to catch up on the news of what happened during his soulless days when he'd gotten a text from an unknown contact, giving him coordinates to a town in Rhode Island where three girls had gone missing in the past week.

He and Dean were currently arguing over whether or not we should take the job, and I was trying to stay out of it.

"You got mysterious coordinates from a mysterious Mr. X, leading to a mysterious town?" Dean said skeptically. "That doesn't throw up red flags to you?" He looked to me for backup, and I frowned.

"It _is _kinda shady, Sam," I said slowly. "Don't you think?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. But that doesn't mean we can just ignore a bunch of missing girls. Right?"

Dean and I shared a look, and I nodded reluctantly. "Okay," he sighed. "We'll check it out. But if things get squirrelly, we dump out, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

So, there we were, headed to Bristol, Rhode Island, and Sam was worrying me. When we passed the "Welcome to Bristol" sign, he got this weird look on his face, like he was remembering something.

"Sammy?" I said, reaching over the seat and putting my hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head rapidly and looked back at me. "Yeah?"

"What just happened?"

"What? Nothing," he said quickly, and he turned back to face the road.

"What?" Dean said, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"_Nothing_," Sam insisted.

_Looks like Sammy's hiding something, _the voice teased in the back of my mind.

I didn't argue. It was right. He was _definitely _lying. And this was something he couldn't afford to lie about. Flashbacks of his soulless days could lead to flashbacks of the Cage, and no one could handle that.

I made a note to confront him about it later, but, for the moment, we had the missing girls to worry about.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Well, freak's got a type," Dean said as he spread missing persons leaflets over the crowded restaurant table. "Brunettes!" He pushed his plate back, and I moved my drink out of the way. "Whoa. This one's got a little bit of a wild side," he said happily, waving one of the flyers in our faces. "It's all in the eyes. See it?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, well, aside from your little deep insight there, these women actually have nothing in common—different jobs, different friends, different everything."

"So, what's the connection?" I asked.

"I dunno," Dean shrugged, pushing his chair back from the table. "Why don't you two figure that out? I'm gonna go hit the poop deck." I raised my eyebrows, then laughed as I noticed that the bathrooms were labeled "poop deck."

As Dean walked away, a dark-haired woman in her forties walked up to our table. "Agent Roark?" she said, sounding surprised and happy. There was also a sly undertone to her voice, and I narrowed my eyes at her. I didn't like the way she looked at Sam. "It's good to see you again."

Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. "It is," he said slowly.

A man suddenly walked up behind the woman, and he glared at Sam the same way I glared at the lady. "Oh, you remember my husband?" the woman said, and the way she said it made it sound sort of like an afterthought.

Sam nodded. "Right."

"Don," the woman reminded him helpfully.

"Of course, right. Um, hi."

"So, you're back 'cause it started again, right—the disappearances?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, and he gave me a clueless look. "Yeah, right."

"So, if you two hear anything, let us know," I piped up, leaning slightly closer to Sam. I _really _didn't like how this chick was looking at him.

The woman frowned at me, and then turned back to Sam. "Where's your partner?" she asked. "The big bald guy? Agent Wynand, right?"

Sam's face went totally blank as he tried to think of an excuse. "Agent Wynand, of course. Well—"

Just then, Dean came back. "Sex rehab," he interrupted. "Yeah, you've heard of plushies, right?" The woman frowned again, and Don made a face.

Sam relaxed considerably and said, "These, uh—these are my new partners."

"Y'know, since you never asked," I said offhandedly, and the woman glared down at me. I grinned innocently.

"Hi. Pleasure," Dean said as he shook the woman's hand. "How you doin'? Hi." He shook Don's hand, then turned to Sam. "Uh, so, we should, uh—"

I got to my feet quickly. "Yeah, definitely." I couldn't wait to get myself and Sam as far away as possible from this bitch.

"Of course!" the woman said. "Uh, nice chatting with you, Agent Roark."

Sam nodded. "You too."

As the woman and her husband walked by, she brushed her hand over Sam's shoulder and squeezed slightly. Sam tensed up, a bewildered look on his face. I made a low, growling noise in the back of my throat, and Dean grabbed my arm as I moved to follow the woman.

The older Winchester gave me a warning look before he released me, and then he turned to his brother. "What was _that_? She just cougar-eyed you!"

Sam glanced at me apologetically as he stood up. "I think Samuel and I have worked a case in this town."

"Ya think?" Dean held up a picture of some guy who won an eating contest. I looked closer and saw Sam and Samuel in the background. _Well, that's not good. _"Come on. Let's get the hell outta here."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I walked into the living room of the house we were squatting in, and it seemed I walked in on another argument between the Winchesters. They had fought the entire way to the house and hadn't stopped since. I was just glad they hadn't asked my opinion yet, seeing as I had absolutely no idea what to do in a situation as crazy as this.

"We'll call Bobby," Dean said pleadingly. "He can deal with it."

"Why?" Sam asked stubbornly. "_We _can deal with it!"

"Are you serious? Sam, there is a reason that hunters don't hit the same town over again—'cause we have a habit of leaving messes behind!"

"Right. I agree." Sam nodded as if that proved _his_ point, not Dean's.

Dean shook his head. "One of Dad's rules—you never use the same crapper twice."

"Oh, _very_ eloquently put, Dean," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes at that Winchester charm. He glared at me angrily, and I held my hands up in defense. "Sorry, sorry, back to your little spat."

"Everyone uses the same crapper twice," Sam argued, completely disregarding my interruption.

"Not us!" Dean hesitated, and Sam raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Oh, you know what I mean!"

Sam ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully, trying to figure out the best way to explain his point of view to Dean. "Okay, look—this creature is still walking around 'cause of me, right?" he said finally. "I mean, I let it go. Dad also said, 'You finish what you start.'" Dean fixed him with his best Older Brother Death Glare, and Sam sighed. "Okay, I _get_ it," he told Dean.

"_Do_ you?"

"Yes! You're afraid I'll stroll down memory lane, and I'll kick this wall in my head so hard, Hell comes flooding through, right? And then, all of a sudden, I'm some drooling mess on the floor," the younger Winchester said matter-of-factly.

I couldn't keep out of it any longer.

"Sammy, this isn't the kinda thing you joke about," I said, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. "This is your _mind_ we're talking about here. You shouldn't even remember any of this—the wall should keep it out. What if _all _of your memories come back, not just the ones about Bristol?"

"Okay, I know. I get what you're saying, and I get why you're worried," Sam assured me. "But listen—what's happening here right now—it's because I messed up somehow, in some big way. So every person who gets taken, every person who dies—that's on me. I have to stop it. And _both _of you would do the same thing." He crossed his arms, knowing we couldn't argue with that.

Dean glanced at me unsurely, and I bit my lip. He let out a tired sigh. "Alright. I'll follow up with the brunettes," he said. "You see what you can get from the cops."

Sam turned to me. "Are you coming with me or going with him?"

I know I should've gone with Sam. I should've kept an eye on him, watched him to make sure he didn't remember anything else. But some part of me—a very small part—was thinking of the way that woman looked at him and the way her hand lingered on his shoulder. The jealous part of me was mad at him for something _he _didn't really do, but that part of me won the fight for the moment.

"I'm going with Dean," I said finally, and I tried not to let the way his face fell get to me. We definitely needed to talk about this later. I wasn't mad at _him_; I was just a bit confused on how I was feeling.

"Okay," he said quietly, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the house, leaving me standing there to regret everything that had happened in the last five minutes.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"So, you and Nicole were roommates for a long time?" Dean asked the girl. She'd told us her name earlier, but I couldn't remember it to save my life.

"Since college," the girl said, smiling sadly, "but we've been best friends forever." She hesitated a minute before saying, "This whole thing's really surreal. Are you any closer to finding her, or…?"

"We're doing everything we can," I told her, giving her a reassuring smile, and she nodded gratefully.

"Now, you were with Nicole the night she went missing," Dean said. "Did she say anything?"

The girl shook her head. "Nothing. It's like I told the cops—I wish there was something."

Dean nodded, glancing down at the kitchen counter. He frowned and picked up a business card. "Where'd you get this?" he asked the girl, holding it out for her to see.

I was about to take it from Dean to find out what was on it when the girl said, "Oh, Nicole got that from that FBI guy."

I stiffened, trying not to think about what Soulless Sam would've done with a pretty young brunette. "Agent Roark?" I asked emotionlessly. "Around six-foot-four, with longish hair?"

The girl nodded eagerly, though she gave me a confused look. I carefully concealed my discomfort, and the half-smile appeared on her face again. "Yeah, that was him. One of the men that disappeared last year lived in our building, so Agent Roark was asking us all questions about it, I guess."

"You _guess_?" Dean echoed. "So he—he came by here?"

"Oh, he came by a few times," she replied, looking uncomfortable.

"So he was banging her, then?" I asked bluntly, and Dean gave me a disbelieving look.

The girl blushed furiously and nodded, squeaking out an embarrassed, "Yep!"

I smiled coldly at her. "Well, I think we've got all we need here," I said. I stared pointedly at Dean. "Thanks for your cooperation." I turned and left the house, taking deep breaths as I tried to stop my powers from going haywire.

Dean came up behind me. "What the hell was _that_?"

I huffed. "Oh, nothing, just the fact that that's the second bitch Sam's fucked here," I snapped.

"Gari, you _know _it wasn't him," Dean argued.

I deflated instantly, and I faced him slowly. "I know," I said. "I just… It's not the best boost of confidence, y'know? I mean, I figured Sam had to have slept with a bunch of chicks while he was soulless, considering he shagged a hooker one hotel room over from me. But it doesn't make it any easier to deal with."

Dean frowned and shifted awkwardly on his feet. "Relationships are… hard?" he offered up lamely, and I let out a small laugh.

"Shut up, you dumbass." I rolled my eyes at him. "C'mon. Let's go find out what else he got up to."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

When Dean and I returned to the house, Sam was waiting with his gun pointed at the door. "_Someone's_ jumpy," I muttered, raising my eyebrows.

"Hey, Sam," Dean said, grinning sarcastically as his little brother put the gun away. "So, how does it feel to be a fugitive again? Hate to say I told you so."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You _love_ to say I told you so."

"Actually, you're right—I _do_ love to say I told you so. So, we found out something on, uh, 'crazy eyes McGee.' Turns out you two knew each other."

"What?" Sam asked confusedly.

"You were screwing her," I explained harshly, and I immediately bit my lip in regret at the alarm and hurt that flashed in his eyes.

Dean gave me that warning glare again and said, "Anyway, we just spoke to her roommate. I gotta say, man—you really got around. I mean, soulless or not, I'm actually kinda—" He broke off abruptly at the evil look I gave him, and he shrugged apologetically.

Suddenly, the police scanner on the table came on. "Eight Sierra Papa. Got a 1057, 1100 block off Hope Street. Over."

"Missing person," Sam said, already heading toward the door. "Another one."

I grabbed the younger Winchester's arm to hold him back as Dean said, "Okay, alright. I'll go. You stay."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, fine."

"Sam?" Dean said sternly.

"What?"

"_Stay here_."

"Fine!" Sam huffed. "Go!"

"I'll watch him," I promised Dean, and he nodded and hurried out the door.

As soon as Dean was gone, Sam stuck his gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbed his jacket off the table. He headed for the door, but I stepped in front of him. "Where d'you think you're going?" I asked, crossing my arms and looking up at him expectantly.

"Look, Gari, all of this is my fault," he said. "I've gotta fix this. When I was at the police department, the case files were gone, and I think I know who has them. I can't remember anything about this case, so I _have _to figure out what's going on here."

"Sam, we shouldn't even _be _here. We should've left as soon as you saw that 'Welcome to Bristol' sign."

"So you caught that, huh?" he sighed.

"_Duh_!" I snapped. "It may have escaped your notice, but I'm _worried _about you, Sam. I'm _always _worried about you. I can't just stand here and let you tear down the wall."

"People will _die_, Gari!" Sam retorted. "You and I both know we can't let that happen. You can worry about me later. Right now, I have to do _something _to help."

He gazed down at me pleadingly, and I reluctantly stepped away from the door. "Okay," I relented. "But I'm coming with you."

He gave me a grateful smile. "Works for me," he said, and then I followed him out of the house, all the while thinking about everything that could go wrong.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Sam, whose house is this?" I hissed at him as we entered some random person's living room.

"Brenna Dobbs," he answered absentmindedly as he searched the room.

"Who's Brenna Dobbs? What are we _doing_ here?"

"I'll explain later," he whispered back. "Once I get the case file."

Suddenly, the light flipped on, and Sam and I froze. We turned to see another brunette standing across the room, looking confused and angry. "Oh, shit," I mumbled under my breath. "Well, I guess _that's _Brenna Dobbs."

"I'm sorry!" Sam said instantly, fixing the woman with his puppy eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You can't be here!" Brenna exclaimed. She took a step back, looking like she was about to run away.

Sam held his hands out in a placating gesture. "Okay, please just listen," he begged.

"What happened to Debbie Harris?" Brenna demanded.

"Debbie?"

"I let you out, and she's just gone."

"And you think I did something to her?" Sam asked confusedly.

Brenna shook her head slowly. "I dunno what to think."

Sam hesitated a moment before saying, "Look, um, I need your help."

"Are you _kidding_?" she asked disbelievingly.

"I need the case files that your husband made about the disappearances last year."

Brenna shifted her gaze from Sam to the floor. "So go to the station and find it," she said.

"It's not there. I broke in and I looked, and it's gone. And I have a theory about who might have it." He fixed her with a knowing look, and she frowned. "Look, we both want the same thing here, Brenna. I promise. We wanna find out what happened last year, and we wanna stop what's happening right now."

Brenna stared at Sam indecisively, and I sighed. "Sometime soon would be helpful," I told her, trying not to sound too impatient and rude. "People are dying. We've gotta stop that _now_."

She narrowed her eyes at me thoughtfully. "So you're still stuck on brunettes, huh?" she asked Sam.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion and reached up to grab my hair. "I'm not a brunette," I argued. "I'm a bl—oh." I dropped my hand to my side, remembering that I _was _a brunette now. _I've had it like this for two years. You'd think I'd be used to it by now._ "Well, I'm not _naturally _a brunette," I amended. "Also, the name's Gari. Y'know, just in case you were wondering."

Brenna nodded once, seeming to have made up her mind. "The file's upstairs," she said. "I'll be right back."

"You sleep with her, too?" I muttered as Brenna walked up the stairs. I made myself look straight ahead. I didn't want to see the pain on Sam's face, but I had to know the truth.

"No," he said quietly.

"But you _do_ remember her?"

"Yeah. She and her husband helped Samuel and me last time."

"Her husband's dead," I said, more as a statement than a question.

"I don't—" Sam broke off mid-sentence, letting out a small gasp.

I spun to face him. He had his head in his hands, and his eyes were squeezed shut. "Sam?" I asked worriedly, crossing over to him and grabbing his wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. "Sammy?"

He dropped his hands and blinked rapidly. "Ow."

"Are you okay? What happened?" I squeezed his wrists reassuringly, trying to keep calm for both our sakes.

"I—I remembered something else." At the look on my face, he hurriedly said, "Nothing bad! Nothing important, either. Just Samuel and me talking to Brenna and Roy."

I heaved a sigh of relief as Brenna came back downstairs holding the file. "Everything okay?" she asked as she saw us.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Um, alright, let's see what you have."

I was watching Sam the entire time we went through the file, and I got more and more worried the longer we worked. He would stop every few minutes and shake his head, like he was trying to clear his mind, and, every now and then, he'd rub at his temples like he was trying to get rid of a headache. Every time he caught me looking, he'd quickly avert his eyes and try to act like nothing was wrong.

He finally stopped going through the file for a minute. "Hey, um, Brenna, d'you mind if I—if we, um, borrow all this stuff for a couple hours?" he asked.

"Um, okay, I guess," she said reluctantly. She frowned and bit her lip, looking like she wanted to say something else. "You really don't remember Roy, do you?" she asked finally, and Sam shook his head sadly. "He was a good man. I've made peace that he's dead. I have. But I just wanna know what happened."

"So do we, Brenna," I told her gently.

"I'm sure he died a hero," Sam said, though he didn't sound so sure to me.

As we walked out onto Brenna's porch, Sam looked at his phone and saw that he had a voicemail. "Put it on speaker," I said, and he nodded.

Dean's angry voice blared from the speaker. "Sam, answer the phone, damnit! I found the connection between the missing chicks. They all banged the same dude—_you_. It's you, Sam. The texts, the victims, all of it—it's a trap for _you_. Call me back."

"Well, that's just peachy," I remarked sarcastically. _So that's Debbie Harris _and _Nicole _and _all the other missing girls _and _the hooker. Geez, maybe I should go him get checked for STDs…_

Sam ignored me, instead staring at an overly large spider web hanging off the side of Brenna's porch.

"T—that's one _big _spider web," I said nervously.

All of a sudden, someone tapped both of us on the shoulder, and we spun around, Sam drawing his gun and me holding up my hand in defense. I relaxed when I saw that it was Dean. "Whoa, whoa!" he said, and I noticed how strung out he looked, too.

"I almost shot you—_again_!" Sam exclaimed. "What the hell?"

"I figured you'd come and talk to her. I told you to stay home, man! And I told _you _to watch him!" Dean said to me.

"Well, _technically_, I am watching him," I replied, shrugging innocently.

He rolled his eyes. "Did you get my message?" he asked his brother, and Sam nodded. "C'mon. We gotta get you outta here. Let's go."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

_I'm getting _really _tired of them arguing, _I complained to myself as we walked back inside our temporary home. Once again, the entire car ride had consisted of the Winchesters fighting about the case, and they were _still _arguing. _I mean, this has to be a new record for them._

"Well, we know that this is a monster with opposable thumbs and unlimited text messaging, and we know that it wants to kill you specifically," Dean said in his usual snarky tone. He kept shooting angry, accusing glances at me, and I knew he was mad at me for letting Sam go. _But, seriously, did he really think I could stop Sam from doing_ anything_? _ "Does that about cover it?"

"It's an Arachne," Sam said.

"A giant spider-lady?" I asked disbelievingly. The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I swallowed back my fear. There was no _way _I was letting them know that I was scared of spiders. Dean would _never_ let me live it down.

"I remembered." Sam's confession caught my attention again.

"You _remembered_?" Dean echoed furiously, and he crossed his arms over his chest, assuming his Threatening Pose. "I'm sorry, uh, what else have you remembered?"

"Don't worry, alright? It's nothing to do with Hell," Sam assured him.

"Uh-huh. Not yet, anyway."

The younger Winchester sighed. "What can I do, Dean? The stuff is just starting to come back, alright? Maybe it's natural."

Dean stared at him for a minute, seemingly trying to make up his mind about something. Finally, he said, "We're leaving."

"No, we can't!"

"We are _not_ the only hunters on the planet, okay? We can call Bobby. He and Rufus could come and wrap up."

"_How_? Like you said, it could be anybody!" Sam argued. "We got jack for leads."

"We know that it hates you!"

"I know who did this!" Sam protested. He sank down into a chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I just—I can't remember."

"I don't think you get the risk here, Sam," Dean said, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Yes, I do."

"Really? You get that every time you scratch that wall, that you are playing Russian Roulette?"

"Oh, he gets it," I piped up. "He just doesn't _care_." I stared at Sam pointedly as I said, "He's being selfish and not thinking of everything the people who care about him are gonna go through when the wall falls down."

"Gari, it's not that!" Sam protested, standing up and crossing over to me. "You _know _it's not that. But I can't just let these people die, not when I know what's going on!" He gazed down at me pleadingly, and I sighed in defeat. _Why do I always go along with him? _ "I get you're worried, okay? And I know what you think is gonna happen." He looked up at his brother then. "But y'know what? It will or it won't."

Dean frowned. "Sam—"

"Look," Sam interrupted. "I'm starting to think that—that I might have done some bad stuff here, Dean. And so I don't care if it's dangerous. I have to set things right 'cause I got a frigging soul now, and—and it won't let me just walk away. I'm staying here. And I need you to back me up."

I resisted the urge to tackle-hug the younger Winchester, instead saying, "I'm with you. I don't like it, but I'm with you." He grinned at me gratefully, and I smiled back, unable to help myself. When he gave a speech so touching and Sam-like, how could I turn him down?

Dean huffed. "Alright. Why not?" He walked over to the wall where we had started to pin up evidence. "Well, let's memento this thing, shall we?"

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"I'll be right back," I told the boys. Without waiting for a reply, I turned and went down the hall into the room Sam and I had claimed. I rummaged through my bag until I found the flask at the bottom, and I bit my lip.

I'd had some blood about two days ago, and I could still feel its power. But we were about to go up against an Arachne, and, if it was anything like the Arachne of Greek mythology, I'd need all the strength I could get. Plus, having the blood would take away some of the fear I was feeling. It always made me more confident, and I wasn't afraid of anything when I was on it.

_Have you talked yourself into it yet? _the voice asked, sounding bored. _That's what you're doing, right? You're trying to justify your addiction now?_

_Yes, _I admitted. I'd finally realized that there was no point in arguing with the voice. It was inside my mind; it knew when I was lying. _Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. It's exactly what I've _done_._

_I like this Meg character, _the voice told me. _She's made you so much more cooperative. And you're also much less whiny than you were before._

_I'd thank Sam for that, _I replied.

_Oh, you've already shown him your appreciation. _Something about how the voice said that sounded suggestive, and I blushed. _What, did you think I just magically disappeared whenever the two of you got together? _it asked with false innocence.

_Oh, shut up._

Without any further hesitation, I uncapped the flask and turned it back, gulping down the blood within. Energy flowed through me, and all of my fear from earlier completely disappeared. It was replaced with anticipation and eagerness and the will to kill.

_That's my girl, _the voice said appreciatively, and a reluctant grin spread over my face. _Make me proud. _

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I tried to keep the impatience off my face as I walked back into the living room to find the boys still talking. I figured they'd be ready to go by the time I got back, but it seems I was wrong.

"What are you gonna say to Brenna?" Dean asked, and I noticed that Sam was holding his cell phone and staring down at it unsurely.

"What's going on?" I questioned as I joined them. I had to remind myself not to let the blood affect how I moved and talked. I knew it made me more confident and happy, but I couldn't act so out-of-character in front of them.

"He's calling Brenna," Dean answered as Sam put the phone to his ear. "He, uh, he remembered what happened."

"Yeah, and that would be…?"

"I'll tell you later," Sam promised, holding the phone away from his face, and I nodded absentmindedly. I was too eager to get out there and kick some Arachne ass.

"Um, what?" Dean said.

"What?" I echoed confusedly.

"Did you just say you're 'too eager to get out there and kick some Arachne ass?'"

"Did I?" I mused. "That was supposed to be in my head. Oops." I shrugged, unconcerned.

Dean gave me a weird look, but Sam hung up before he could say anything else. "What was that about?" Dean asked his brother.

"She wants me to swing by," Sam said slowly.

"Why?" I asked, rocking back and forth on my heels. I stopped abruptly as I noticed the look Dean was giving me. "What's up?"

"She said it's no big deal…" Sam started, "but I can tell she's in deep trouble."

With that ominous statement, we piled into the Impala and drove to Brenna's house. I had to keep reminding myself not to bounce up and down on the seat, no matter how impatient I was, because I knew that that wasn't something I normally did. _And Dean's already suspicious enough as it is._

We walked up to Brenna's porch and noticed that the house was completely dark.

"Dean, back door," Sam ordered. "Gari—"

"Sam," Dean interrupted. "Light's on in the shed. My spidey senses are tingling."

"How long have you been waiting to use _that _one?" I teased.

"Shhh!" Sam hissed.

As we stepped into the shed, Brenna Dobbs stepped out of the shadows. "Sam?" she said softly.

"Brenna?" Sam said. "Hey."

"Okay, yeah, I'm with Dean," I muttered. "My spidey senses are _definitely _tingling!"

"What you did to Roy..." Brenna said. "Is it true?"

Sam stared at Brenna, looking completely guilty and ashamed. Before he could say anything, however, something attacked us. Dean went flying across the shed and into a wall, where he hit his head and fell to the ground.

"Gari, look out!" Sam yelled.

I ducked just in time for something to swing over my head. I spun around to see the ugliest creature I think I've ever seen. His face was mutilated and disgusting, and each of his eyes was bright blue with two pupils. This had to be Roy Dobbs. He wasn't dead—he was an Arachne.

"Well, who beat you with the ugly stick?" I joked as I dodged another hit. I swung my fist around and grinned as it made contact with the Arachne's face.

He staggered backwards, a large grin spreading over his horrible face, and he came back at me with another attack. I stepped back and tripped over something, but I regained my footing just in time to duck again. I looked down and realized that I'd tripped over a body, and it was wrapped in cobwebs. _Oh, no _way _that's happening to me! _While I was distracted, however, Roy got the best of me, and I tumbled to the ground. My head hit the concrete, and I knew no more.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

When I woke up, my head was throbbing and I couldn't move. I looked down and saw that I was covered completely in spider webs. They obscured my sight and clogged my throat, and I tried my best not to panic. _I shouldn't be scared! Why am I scared?_

_You were knocked unconscious. Haven't you noticed that the blood wears off faster that way?_

_No, actually, but thanks for the helpful tip._

_No need to get snappy._

"You gotta admit I look good, Sam," Roy said, jolting me out of my inner argument. "Well, except for your little souvenir." The Arachne grinned and pointed to a bullet-sized scar in the middle of his forehead.

"You win; I'm here," Sam said, and I twisted my head, trying to find him. "Let Brenna go. This has nothing to do with her."

"You come back around, start hanging out with my wife, and you think this has nothing to do with her?" Roy said disbelievingly. "But, then, you thought I was out of the way, right? I gotta say, you get a hell of a lot wrong, Sam. Like that thing you threw me to. You thought it was here to feed."

"She was here to breed…" Sam said slowly, and my heart dropped into my stomach. _So all of those men were potential mates? That's freaking sick._

"Yeah," Roy said with a nod. "That thing was playing the mating game, and I guess I fit her profile—me and all those other poor bastards. She bit us to turn us into what she was. By the time you pulled that trigger, I wasn't human. Not anymore. So bullets didn't hurt me much. Oh, and neither did fire."

As Roy the Arachne talked, I struggled to fight against my fear and disgust, and I started wriggling my hands around to try to get a grip on the cobwebs. I tugged against them relentlessly, but they wouldn't give. My heart started racing and my breath came in shallow gasps. It wasn't enough that I couldn't move my body—I had to be wrapped in cobwebs by a rogue Spider-Man, too.

_Okay, okay, calm down. Calm down. We can handle this. I mean, so what if I'm fighting a spider creature that only exists in Greek mythology? So what if I'm wrapped up in spider webs? No big deal._

_Oh, gods, I'm going to pass out._

I made myself tune into what Roy was saying in an attempt to stop freaking out. "Then Bren tells me you've got brain damage," the Arachne said. "It's just too good."

"Where are they, Roy?" Sam asked angrily. "The women?"

"Scattered," Roy said dramatically, "in the wind. They're like me now. You killed one monster; you made so many more. Congratulations. The only question is: do I kill you... or turn you?"

Just then, Dean broke free of his cobwebs and charged at Roy. I struggled even harder against the spider webs, knowing that I couldn't let Dean fight him alone. Roy suddenly threw Dean against the wall and picked him up by the neck. "Dean!" I yelped. _C'mon, awesome witchy powers! Any time you wanna work against spider webs would be nice!_

"_No_!" Brenna shrieked, running toward her monster of a husband. "Roy, _stop_!"

Roy continued to choke Dean, and Brenna seemed to come to a decision. She ran over to Sam and cut him free. He grabbed the machete that he'd dropped earlier and stepped up behind Roy. In one swift motion, Sam swung the blade around and decapitated Roy. Dean fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"Um, guys?" I piped up from my spot on the floor. "Help?"

Sam cut me free and helped me to my feet. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Y—yeah," I said shakily as I continued to pull pieces of web off me. Sam pulled a long strand out of my hair, and I couldn't contain the shiver that shook my body.

He gave me a curious look. "Gari, you're not scared of—?"

"Okay!" I interrupted loudly, tugging out of his grasp. "Let's get outta here, shall we?"

I walked a step behind Brenna as she led the way back to her house. She didn't speak the entire time, and I got the sense that she was barely keeping it together. We stepped up onto the porch, and Sam pushed past me hurriedly. "Brenna, look, I am _so _sorry," he said, but she still didn't turn around. "Brenna, I—I mean, I—"

The door slammed in his face, and he heaved a defeated sigh. "C'mon," I said softly, taking his hand. "We should go."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"You okay?" Dean asked his brother as we entered our little abandoned house.

"You were right," Sam said shortly. "We shouldn't have come back here."

"Well, you did kill, uh, Spider-Man."

Sam spun around, looking angry and sad and bewildered. "So, you're suggesting what I did back there was a _good _thing?"

"I'm just sayin'—"

"_What_?"

"Sam, you gotta understand that all that crap last year—all of it—_none_ of it was you!"

"Let's be crystal clear, okay?" Sam said, his voice deathly calm. "It was me." He sat down on the edge of the creaky old couch and stared moodily down at the floor.

Honestly, at this point, I was too tired to argue with him. I knew that he wasn't responsible for anything that happened in Bristol, but I also knew that he would never see it that way. No matter what Dean said to him, no matter what I'd said to him before, he was never going to fully believe that none of this was his fault.

Dean seemed to realize this, too, for he sighed and said, "Well, can I get you anything?"

Sam glared at him. "What are you now, my waitress?" he snapped.

"I'm just trying to make you feel better," Dean replied angrily. "Don't be a bitch!"

Sam let out a deep breath, and it looked like he had managed to calm down. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly. I walked over and sat down beside him, sliding my arm through his and leaning my head against his shoulder. I knew that nothing I could say would make him feel better about this, so I tried to show him that I was there for him in whichever way he needed me. "Thanks," he whispered to me, and I smiled up at him.

"Yeah, you _look_ fine," Dean said sarcastically, missing our little exchange. "All I'm saying is everything's gonna be okay."

Sam frowned and pressed a hand to his forehead. "I dunno, Dean," he replied in a strained voice. I sat up and stared at him worriedly. His face was screwed up with pain, and he brought his other hand to his face, too. "If I did this here, then who knows how many oth—"

He broke off abruptly and fell to the floor, where he immediately started seizing. "_Dean_!" I screamed, dropping to my knees beside Sam as the older Winchester ran over to us. "What's _happening_?" I cried.

Dean's face was a mask of pure terror. "I—I don't—Sammy? _Sammy_?" Dean yelped. Sam had stopped seizing and was now completely still, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Sammy, talk to me!"

As I shook Sam roughly and called his name, I swear I could hear him screaming.

**Remember, keep an eye out for that mini-chapter tomorrow night. I'll explain why it's different and mini in the author's note for that.**

**Also, eesh. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I mean, I know you know he's gonna be alright—well, as alright as Sam can get—but still. I feel kinda bad for that. **

**Also, if you look closely, you can see where I hinted at something that's going to happen during the seventh season.**

**As always, I'll check for errors on some random day when I have absolutely nothing to do. It could be tomorrow; it could be in a month. Whatever!**

**Anyway, I think that's about it, so… Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	18. Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

**Okie dokie, here's the mini-chapter I promised! Sorry it's up a bit later today than I intended. But, hey, at least it's up, right?**

**Okay, time to explain the reason for this mini-chapter: So the episode after "Unforgiven," the episode that my previous chapter took place in, is "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning." Now, the majority of that episode is about the boys being split up because Ben "Parent Traps" Lisa and Dean, and Sam is figuring out the case on his own. I couldn't do that in my story for obvious reasons, like the fact that Lisa and Ben aren't in my story, for example. Anyway, I wanted to skip this episode completely, but some really important shit happens in the beginning, and the brotherly conversation at the end is just too perfect to miss out on. So I made this chapter out of the most important parts of the episode (and one small not-so-important part, just to keep the chapter flowing). It definitely isn't long enough to be classified as a chapter, at least not with the length of ****_my _****chapters, seeing as this is only 2,198 words excluding my author's notes. So, ta-da! A mini-chapter!**

**Anyway, ENJOY.**

"Dean, he—he's still not moving," I choked out, not bothering to brush away the tears streaming down my face. I wasn't sure how long we'd been trying to wake Sam, but I knew it wasn't working. His eyes had finally closed, and now he lay as motionless as a dead man. "Sammy, wake up," I begged, trying to block my mind to the sound of his screams. _Why am I hearing him? Am I imagining this? Oh, please don't let this be another power. _"_Please_, Sam. _Please_."

"Sam?" Dean croaked. He'd given up shaking his brother, but he had his hands fisted around Sam's shirt and kept calling his name desperately. He released Sam's shirt with one hand and moved to check his pulse.

"Is he—?" I couldn't finish my question, and, thankfully, I didn't have to, for Dean shook his head slowly. I let out a small sigh of relief, but it that didn't make me worry any less.

"Sam. S—Sam? Oh, c'mon!" Dean shook his brother forcefully, and his voice was thick with the effort of staying calm. "_Sammy_! C'mon, c'mon. C'mon, _damn it_!"

All of a sudden, Sam's eyes opened, and he let out a long gasp of breath. I thought I saw fire flicker briefly in his eyes, but I couldn't be sure. "Oh, thank God," I breathed, dropping my head to rest on his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey, you with me?" Dean asked as Sam tried to get up. I got to my feet as Dean pulled Sam off the floor. "C'mon. C'mon, gotta get you outta here. Gari, grab our stuff."

I did as he said, and then followed the brothers out of the house and to the Impala. We sped away from the house, and soon the "Welcome to Bristol" sign was left behind in the dust.

Sam hadn't said anything other than a quiet, "I'm fine," once we got in the car, and now he was sleeping soundly with his head against the passenger side window. I watched him closely from my spot in the back, and Dean watched him from the driver's seat, both of us ready to leap into action if he had another episode.

"Dean, what if it happens again?" I murmured as I crossed my arms over the back of the seat. "How long can this stuff happen before the entire wall breaks down?"

"I dunno," the older Winchester said softly. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was trying to hide how badly Sam's fit had shaken him. "But we can't let him do something like that again. I don't care _what_ he remembers—he's not pushin' it next time."

"You _know_ he's not gonna go for that."

"I don't care, Gari!" he snapped. "You and me—we're the majority here, and we've gotta stop him from doing this to himself!"

"Yeah," I agreed, gazing at Sam again. Dean was right—we couldn't let Sam tear that wall down. Not only would we lose him after all that we'd been through to get him back, but he'd lose himself, too. And we couldn't let him do that.

We _wouldn't _let him do that.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Food?" I asked hopefully as Dean walked over to us. He had been oddly excited to get something from a food truck. Though I had been skeptical at first, the moment I smelled their fried Oreos, I was sold.

"Yeah, yeah, double order of fried Oreos," Dean said, handing me the Styrofoam bowl. "You realize that's twelve of them, right?"

I froze, half of an Oreo already in my mouth. "Your point?" I said around a mouthful of crispy, chocolaty goodness. Sam managed a small laugh, though I could tell it made his head hurt even more. He'd been massaging the bridge of his nose since he woke up, and it seemed that his headache still hadn't gone away.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. "How d'you feel?" he asked as he handed Sam a cup of coffee.

Sam took the coffee gratefully. "Like I got hit by a..." He trailed off, fishing around for the right word. "Planet," he said at last, and Dean's mouth twitched up at the corner in amusement.

"Well, lucky for you," Dean said, "I'm a doctor. I got joe, grub, and…" He shook a container of mysterious, unmarked pills in front of Sam's face and grinned.

Sam frowned. "What are they?"

"Effective."

"I'm okay. Thanks."

Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Sam looked around for his coffee, and I smiled sweetly as I handed it to him. "Is there any left?" he muttered, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Peace offering?" I said, offering up a fried Oreo. "You should be honored. I don't share my Oreos, fried or not." He grinned and took the Oreo, but didn't eat it right away.

"So, how long was I out, again?" he asked us.

"I'm tellin' you, like two or three minutes," Dean replied, and Sam furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why?" I asked. "Did it feel longer to you?"

"About a week, give or take," he said quietly.

Dean stared at him for a moment before asking, "You wanna talk about it?"

"'It?'"

"Yeah, whatever that was. I mean, it was like you were freakin' electrocuted."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I mean, it wasn't fun, but I—I'm… fine."

"You saw Hell, didn't you," I said, and it came out sounding like more of a statement than a question. I remembered the sound of his screams in my head, and I knew that it couldn't be anything else. "You saw the Cage." The way he looked at me made me feel like he knew something else was going on, but he didn't say anything.

"Ever cross your mind that you could've _died_?" Dean asked angrily.

Sam tore his eyes away from mine and huffed, "Oh, _c'mon_."

"I'm serious!" Dean exclaimed. "And none of this 'it's just a flesh wound' crap. 'Cause we did it your way. We let you go explore, and every bad thing that we said would happen happened! So guess what? Past stays past. We're not kicking that wall again."

"So I'm supposed to just ignore it?"

"Yes," I replied bluntly.

"Guys, I might've done... who knows what, and you want me to just _forget_ about it?" Sam asked incredulously.

"You shove it down, and you let it come out in spurts of violence and alcoholism," Dean advised.

"That sounds healthy," the younger Winchester said sarcastically.

"Well, works for me," Dean said with a shrug, and Sam sighed. "It's not a joke. Your life is on the line here, Sam. This is not a debate. I mean, first you were a soulless dickbag, and now you're not. So're we good?"

"Yeah," Sam said, sounding defeated. "Sure."

Dean nodded. "Good. Well, let's get your mind off it, shall we? You, uh, up for a job?"

"Well, what d'you got?"

"There was a janitor murdered in a college lab last night," I piped up, licking powdered sugar off my fingers. "The doors were locked, and there was nobody else inside the building."

"Great," Sam said, stuffing the fried Oreo I'd given him into his mouth. "Where to?"

"Paterson, New Jersey," I told him, and Dean started laughing for some reason.

"Hey, maybe we'll have a Snooki sighting," he said, still chuckling.

"What's a Snooki?" Sam asked confusedly.

"_That_ is a good question."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I have to say, it felt nice to be hunting a regular ghost again. I missed the days of vengeful spirits and swamp monsters. These days, it was all Purgatory and Mother of All and worrying about Sam. Sometimes it was good to go back to the basics.

But maybe I'd forgotten just how upsetting the basics could be.

The spirit of a woman named Rose had been attacking all the people responsible for her death, and she'd been using dummies—anything from mannequins to sex dolls—to do it. We'd burned everything we could find that belonged to her, but she still kept coming.

And that's when we found out that she'd given her sister Isabel a kidney.

"I think we have to go hoodoo," Sam said, and I _really _wish he hadn't said it in front of Isabel. She was freaking out enough already.

"Hoodoo?" Dean asked unsurely.

"Yeah, hoodoo."

"That's more of a band-aid, not really a cure."

"But it'll buy us some time, right?" I said. "At least until we can figure out something else."

"Alright," Dean relented. "Louisiana, it is."

"_Voodoo_?" Isabel yelped, looking between the three of us like we were totally insane. _Which, I guess, to normal people, we probably are…_ "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Actually, it's 'hoodoo,'" Dean corrected. "It's a little different."

Isabel shook her head and started backing away from us. "Hold on, Isabel," Sam said calmly.

"You're not feds," she said slowly.

"Just let us explain."

Just then, I heard the unmistakable sound of the Impala revving up. "No," Dean said, sounding panicked. "No _way_."

"That's impossible!" Isabel gasped.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Dean cried. "She possesses sex dolls! This—this is _not_ a sex doll!" The Impala's lights turned on, and I took a few steps back, pulling Isabel with me. "Hey, you leave my baby alone!" Dean yelled, continuing to rant at the spirit. "She's got nothin' to do with this!"

Suddenly, the Impala started driving toward us. "Run!" I ordered, grabbing Isabel by the arm to help her keep up.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Dean said frantically as he outran me.

"Okay," Sam said as we came to a stop. He opened the door of another car and started to usher Isabel inside. "Get in!"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed as he walked in front of a store. "I'm so sorry, baby," he murmured, and he jumped aside right as the Impala was about to hit him. The car crashed through the glass storefront and turned off immediately, its tires still spinning.

"Okay, you alright?" Sam asked his brother, and Dean nodded, though he looked very upset at the state of his baby.

"Yeah," he said dejectedly. "Yeah, I'm good. You guys?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Shiny," I answered.

"Yeah, I'm…" Isabel trailed off as a thin line of blood made its way down her chin. She gazed down in shock at the shard of glass sticking out of her stomach in the exact place the donated kidney would be.

She started to fall, but Sam caught her and eased her to the ground. "Isabel? Hey, hey," he said softly as her eyes started to glaze over.

I knelt down beside them and took Isabel's hand. "It's gonna be okay," I told her, though I knew that that was a lie.

All of a sudden, the image of a young woman who had to be Rose appeared. "I'm sorry," she said, looking as though she was barely holding back tears. "I didn't mean for this."

As Rose's spirit went up in flames, the last trace of life left Isabel's eyes.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I handed Dean a wrench as Sam came around the side of the Impala. "How's it look?" he asked us.

Dean sat up, wiping grease on his shirt. "Well, considering she got carjacked by poltergeist, could be worse. I mean, what exactly did we do back there, Sam?"

Sam frowned. "Yeah, I'm not putting it in the win column, either."

"We saved a few dicks, and we killed an innocent girl." I was astonished at the devastation in his voice. Not five minutes ago, we'd been joking and laughing like everything was fine. "I mean, all we do is make a mess," he continued.

"That's not true," Sam argued.

"Yeah, y'know, we're kinda like heroes every now and then," I added. "Stopping the Apocalypse and all that—that was a pretty good clean-up job."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean sighed. "I'm just... I'm just tired of all the bad luck, y'know?"

"Well, y'know, number one: bad luck is kind of in the job description," Sam said. "And, two: it's not all bad. Really. Look at me." He shrugged. "I mean, at least Satan's left the building."

"Yeah, it's the little things," Dean replied sarcastically.

Sam chose to ignore that, instead saying, "And I have a soul because of you. I never thanked you for that, did I?"

"That's all good, man," Dean said. "And Gari helped."

I shook my head. "No, not really. I wish I could've, but you're the one who came up with the Death Deal Plan. I just went along for the ride."

Dean looked like he was about to argue with me, but Sam interrupted by saying, "Well, thanks. Both of you."

"You'd have done the same for us," Dean said, and he ducked his head, like Sam's praise was making him feel awkward or something.

"I mean it," Sam insisted. "Look, we keep our heads down, keep swinging. We'll lose some. Hopefully, we'll win more. And… I dunno. Anyway, for what it's worth, I got your back."

Dean gave his brother a small, slightly happier grin. "Yeah, I know."

**See? I couldn't skip out on that sweet little ending!**

**So how'd you like the mini-chapter? It actually kinda freaked me out. I kept having the urge to try to make it longer, so I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't ****_need _****to make it longer.**

**Anyway, there is still one more chapter in my rapid-updating spree! Tune in tomorrow for the next one! And that one is already typed and ready to go, so it shouldn't be too late at night/early in the morning, depending on where you originate, when I post it!**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	19. Blood Stains On My Hands

**And now we have the third and final chapter in my rapid-updating spree! Don't be expecting any more awesome updating, though. I might get one up this weekend, but the next chapter is really kicking my ass right now.**

**And I'm not gonna say anything about this chapter other than the fact that it is completely something that I wrote. It does not take place in any episode of ****_Supernatural_****.**

**Hold on to your butts, kids. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.**

**ENJOY.**

When I woke up, Sam was still sleeping soundly. I rolled over to look at him, still unable to grasp the fact that he was really here with me. A smile crossed my face at how peaceful and happy he looked, but it soon faded as the thirst kicked in.

Two weeks. I hadn't had blood in _two weeks._ Meg was supposed to be getting me a flask once a week, and I hadn't heard from her in two. I had already drained my emergency flask three days ago. My hands twitched slightly, and a wave of nausea hit me. I swallowed it back, wondering how much longer I could hold out.

_You can't,_ the voice said, and I knew it was right. _You've gotten dependent on having it once a week. You're on a schedule. You're pushing it, Garideth. If you don't have it soon, you're gonna start going through withdrawals again. I wonder what it'll be this time—vomiting or migraines?_

I buried my head in my hands for a minute, trying to ignore the voice and the beginnings of the withdrawals. Finally, it was too much.

I got out of bed slowly, wincing as my feet hit the cold floor. I put on some fresh clothes and moved towards the coffee table, remembering that there had been a notepad and a pen on it yesterday.

I picked up the pen and wrote out a quick message to Sam, telling him not to worry, that I was just going out for coffee, and I'd be back soon. I glanced at him over my shoulder to make sure he was still sleeping; then, grabbing my flasks from my bag, I left the hotel room.

I walked quickly down the street, looking for any sign of demons. Finally, I smelled one. I ducked into an old, abandoned warehouse where five big teenagers were huddled around a little boy. A throbbing pain started in my head as I realized how close I was to getting my next hit. The migraine grew in power until my vision started to falter.

_No. Stay awake,_ the voice ordered. _It's _right there_._

One of the teenagers pushed the boy, and the poor kid cried out, "Leave me alone! Stay back!"

"Or _what_?" the biggest one said, and I could tell this was the leader. "You'll _cry _us to death?"

"I'll… I'll tell my mom!" the little boy threatened lamely, and the teens broke into a round of cruel laughter.

"Hey, there, kids," I said, and my voice thankfully came out strong. "What's up?"

All of the boys turned to face me, the little one letting a relieved grin spread over his face, and the leader stepped forward nervously. "We were just messin' around," he said, crossing his arms defensively.

A chorus of "yeah" sounded from the other four boys, and they all shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, run along now," I told them, shooing them away with my hand. I figured that, once they'd split up, I could follow the smell of the blood and find the demon.

The four cronies looked to the leader, and he gave a slight nod. "We were gettin' bored anyway," he said gruffly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Go on, tough guy. Run home to mommy."

The teens took off with angry grunts, and the little boy said, "Thank you so much!" He had tears in his eyes, and my heart hurt for him.

"Don't worry about it," I replied dismissively, giving him a friendly smile. "How about I get you home?"

"Okay!"

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness swept over me, and I swayed on the spot as black spots swam in front of my eyes. The enticing aroma of demon blood assaulted my nose, and I held my breath to try to block out the scent.

The little boy grinned, and his eyes flashed black. I took an involuntary step back. _No way. Not a kid. Not a little boy._

"What's the matter, Garideth?" he asked, a sickly innocent tone to his voice. "You're not _scared_ of me, are you?"

My vision blurred, and I stumbled slightly, thankfully able to right myself against the wall. "Stay—stay away from me," I said shakily. The smell of the blood washed over me, and I went weak at the knees. My eyes fixated on the small scrapes and cuts along the boy's arms, and then I centered on the particularly deep cut on his neck. _I can't do this. He's just a kid!_

The boy stepped forward. "You're falling apart," he said with a light, teasing lilt. "You can smell it, can't you? I can tell. You've got this crazy look in your eyes." He smirked. "I won't stop you. I'm at your disposal."

"N—no." I slid down the wall, unable to support myself any longer. My head pounded fiercely, and I felt as if my skull was being ripped apart.

"C'mon, Garideth," he said as he stepped even closer. The tantalizing aroma of his blood grew stronger until it physically pained me to resist.

"No!" I protested, dropping my face into my hands and clutching at my hair.

_You need it_, the voice whispered menacingly in the back of my mind. _You'll die if you don't get it._

"Leave me alone," I pleaded desperately, both to the boy and to the voice. "Leave me alone!"

_Drink!_ the voice commanded.

"Drink!" the boy ordered.

They wouldn't shut up—they kept repeating it, like some sick chant—and the pain in my head was unbearable and the thirst was too much, but I couldn't do it! I couldn't give in because I had _Sam_ and he would _hate _me if I didn't stop and I _couldn't _let him hate me—I would _die _if he hated me! But the smell was so strong and the boy was even closer—almost in my lap—and they were _still _chanting and they were driving me _insane_!

And, finally, I snapped.

With a feral snarl, I attacked the demon boy. He grinned widely for a brief second, but then yelped in pain as I latched onto his neck. I bit down, drawing even more blood, unable to get enough. It flowed over my tongue and down my throat, leaving a burning, scorching trail of raw, unbelievable power through my insides.

_That's right_, the voice praised triumphantly. _Drink it _all_. _Good _girl. Keep going._

I obeyed the voice willingly, completely ignoring the demon child's cries and pleas. Now that I had given in, there was no way I could stop.

Just then, an image of Sam's face flashed across my mind. He was smiling at me, that same smile that melted my heart even more than his puppy dog eyes.

My eyes snapped open, and I released the boy instantly. He lay lifelessly in front of me, but he was breathing. _Just barely, but still. He's breathing. _I could now see the demon's face over his own. Using my renewed strength, I closed my eyes and focused my powers, effectively killing the demon.

"Kid," I said softly, shaking the boy. "Hey, kid. Wake up."

His eyelids fluttered, and he stared up at me fearfully. "Please don't hurt me again!" he begged, scuttling back against the wall.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," I said quietly. "You don't need to move too much. You've lost a lot of blood."

_Because you drank it_, the voice teased.

"Please don't hurt me!" the boy repeated pathetically, his wide eyes full of tears.

"I've gotta get you to a hospital," I tried, moving toward him.

"Don't touch me!" he shrieked, scrambling to his feet in an attempt to get away.

"You're gonna strain yourself. Calm down," I continued in an even tone.

The boy's eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped like a stone.

_Too late_, the voice said, and I knew that if it had a face, it would be smirking.

"Fuck," I breathed. I went over to the boy and checked his pulse. My stomach lurched as I felt how sluggish it was. His breathing was even weaker than before, and it made a wet, rasping noise every time he inhaled. _Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Don't panic. _Don't _panic._

I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911 with shaking hands. "Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" a woman asked disinterestedly.

"There's a little boy," I started, my voice cracking, "and he's really hurt. He's unconscious and he's barely breathing and he won't stop _bleeding _and—"

"Miss, where are you?" the woman interrupted, sounding much more interested now.

"I—I don't _know_, I'm in a warehouse and…" I looked around wildly, running a hand through my hair and biting my lip hard as I searched for a distinct landmark. Finally, I found one. "There's a big blue office building across the street," I said, "at least twenty stories high."

"Can I get your name?"

"Just _hurry_!" I yelped, and then I hung up on her. I stared down at the boy, blinking back tears. "You can't die," I told him hoarsely. "You _can't_."

_You should've drained him_, the voice said indifferently. _Would've been quicker. And less wasteful._

I ignored it and took the boy's hand. "C'mon," I whispered, squeezing his hand. I could hear sirens coming already due to the advanced hearing the blood caused, but they had to be at _least _ten minutes away. "You're gonna be okay," I told him, even though I knew he couldn't hear me.

_Stop lying_, the voice said. _You _know _he's gonna die._

"You're _not _gonna die," I whispered shakily. "You're gonna be okay."

All of a sudden, his breathing hitched, and then stopped altogether.

"Kid?" I croaked, shaking him gently, then roughly when nothing happened. "No, no, no!" I cried. "You can't be dead! You _can't _be dead! _No_!"

The sirens were getting louder. _Aw, five minutes too late_, the voice pouted mockingly. _Too bad._

"Wake up!" Tears streamed down my face, and my hands skittered over his body helplessly. "You've _gotta _wake up!" I pulled his body into my arms and dropped my head. "_Please _wake up!" I sobbed. "_Please_!"

_You're pathetic, _the voice spat, disappointment coloring its tone. _Let the boy go and get the fuck outta here! Get up, you useless thing!_

"_SHUT UP!_" I screamed. All of the windows blew outward, and the light bulbs shattered, plunging me into darkness. "_Get out of my HEAD_!"

Agony shot through my brain, and I let out a loud cry. It felt as though something was being sawed out of my mind. I released the boy with a jolt, and I wrapped one arm around myself and shoved a fist in my mouth to muffle the sound of my screams. The pain was never-ending, seeming to last an eternity and more. It was all I knew and all I had ever known and all I _would _ever know.

And then, just like that, it was over.

I forced my eyes open and uncurled my body. I heard people outside of the warehouse and knew that they were from the hospital. _Out, _I thought numbly. _Gotta get out. _I managed to get to my feet, and I stumbled over to a window. It was kind of high up, but if I jumped, I could just barely reach it. The remaining glass bit into my hands, but I paid it little attention. All I could think was, _Out. Get out._

I pulled myself up and leaped out of the window, landing unsteadily and almost falling. As I walked away, I heard the warehouse door open and the emergency response people come in. I picked up my pace, not wanting to hear what they said about the boy.

_Dean, _I thought. _I have to get Dean. He'll help. He _has _to help._

But there was no _way _I could drive across the country feeling like this. I was managing to hold the crushing guilt back at the moment, but I knew that wouldn't last long. I would break down soon.

Suddenly, an idea hit me. It was crazy—like, _beyond_ crazy, and probably dangerous—but the idea stuck. I had to try. If low-class demons could do it, maybe I could too.

I had no clue what to do, so I decided to wing it. I pictured Dean and Ella's house in my mind. I imagined the white shutters, the flower boxes under the windows, and the Impala parked in the driveway. Then I willed myself to be there with all my might.

Pain started in my stomach, then quickly spread to my whole body. My fingertips tingled uncomfortably, and that sensation also grew. I began to sweat, but I couldn't tell if it was from exertion, stress, or a side effect of trying to teleport.

Then there was a tugging sensation behind my belly button, and the world started spinning. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as the spinning made the terrible nausea threatening to overwhelm me even worse.

Everything grew still, and I slowly opened my eyes. I was greeted by the welcome sight of the little blue house. I would've smiled at my success had it not been for the awful circumstances. I bounded up the porch steps, and then skidded to a halt in front of the door. _What if Elle's home? She can't see me like this. It'll destroy her._

But I couldn't worry about that. I had to get help. I had to get _clean._

Without further hesitation, I hammered on the door. No one was coming, so my knocks got harder and more desperate. _Please be home! Dean, you _have _to be home!_

Just when I was about to give up, I heard someone gruffly say, "Alright, alright, I'm coming! Geez!" Tears of relief sprang to my eyes at the sound of Dean's voice. Seconds later, he opened the door, looking pleasantly surprised when he saw me. "Gari?" he said with a grin. "What're you doing here?"

"Dean, I—"

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently, finally noticing my distress. "Where's Sam?"

_Of course that would be the conclusion he jumped to. _"M—Montana," I answered shakily. "He—he's okay. But—"

"Then what's wrong?" he pressed, sounding confused. "Why're you alone? And how the hell'd you get here?"

"Dean, _please_," I begged, tears flowing freely from my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop them. "_Please _listen. You've gotta help me!"

"Gari, calm down," Dean said quietly, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me slightly. "What happened?"

Here it was. Confession time.

"I—I started drinking," I whispered. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew I wasn't talking about alcohol. "A—and I did something _terrible, _Dean. I—I killed somebody. He was just a little boy! I didn't even know his name! And I _killed _him!"

As I said the words aloud, the guilt became too much. I fell to my knees and buried my head in my hands as wracking sobs shook my body. I _killed _someone. I killed a _child_. I drained him dry, and I _enjoyed _it. I wasn't even _human _anymore. I was the worst monster imaginable, worse than everything we'd ever hunted _combined. _I deserved to be put down just like all of the other monsters out there.

"Gari, get up," Dead said finally, a commanding note to his deep voice. When I didn't budge, he grabbed my arms again and hauled me to my feet. "Now stop crying." I inhaled deeply and held my breath, hoping to hold back the sobs. "Get in the car," he ordered. "I'm takin' you to Bobby's."

"Thank you," I sighed, tears once again threatening to spill over. My eyes met his, and I wasn't surprised by the disgust I saw. But there was also pity and despair. It was nice to know that Dean still considered me human—that he still thought of me as _Gari_, not some terrible creature.

"Just get in the car," he repeated, averting his eyes.

I did as he said and climbed in the passenger seat. It felt odd sitting there. I was used to being in the back. This was Sam's spot.

I hugged my knees to my chest and leaned against the door. "Where's Ella?" I asked softly as we sped off.

"Dev and Jess's," Dean replied shortly.

I bit my lip. Sioux Falls was _very _far away. This was going to be painfully awkward, but I could still only feel relief at the moment. Dean was going to help me. I was going to be _clean_.

"What the fuck were you thinkin', Gari?" he exclaimed suddenly, startling me out of my oddly happy thoughts. "You _saw _Sam. You _know _what he was like. You _know _what he went through. So what the _fuck_?"

I sighed resignedly. I was going to be stuck in a car with him for who knew how long. I had to explain. I owed him that much.

"D'you remember the witch in SoCal?" I asked. "Britt?"

"What the hell's this got to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question, Dean."

He scowled. "Fine. Yeah, I remember the bitch. What about her?"

"She knew about my mom," I told him, "and about me. See, Crowley—"

"Pulled an Azazel," he interrupted. "Sam told me. Y'know, when he was soulless."

"Oh." I hesitated for a moment, and then decided that I had to continue. "Well, what Sam _didn't _know was that Britt basically told me that I could 'unlock my full potential' by drinking… it," I finished lamely.

"That didn't mean you had to!"

"I know!" I snapped irritably, the blood getting the best of my emotions. Dean shot me a bewildered look. "I—I'm sorry," I mumbled. "It screws with my emotions. You _had_ to have noticed how bipolar I've been."

"Nah, you're always bipolar," he joked. I gave him a small smile, glad that he was able to tease me.

"Just so you know," I said, "it was never my intention to start drinking it. I couldn't see why anyone would do it, and I promised myself that I never would. Especially after seeing Sam."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean replied skeptically. "Then what changed?"

"It was an accident. Demons had been tailing me ever since I left. One of them finally tried to attack me."

"So you decided to _drink_ him?" he asked incredulously.

"No! He had blood on his hands and he grabbed at my face and I tasted it and—" I stopped and took a deep breath to calm myself. "Well, you get the idea."

"So why'd you keep drinking?"

"I—well… it's addictive," I hurriedly said, thankfully restraining myself from telling him the _real _reason I continued drinking.

Dean cocked an eyebrow, knowing I wasn't sharing everything. "Oh, c'mon, Gari. I know you better than that. You gotta have a better reason than 'it's addictive.'"

I bit my lip. "I—I do," I admitted. "But it's stupid. _Extremely _stupid. And you don't need to know it."

He rolled his eyes. "What, did it make you feel closer to Sam or something?" he teased.

I looked away, feeling my cheeks flush and my eyes prickle with shameful tears. I _knew _how foolish my reason was, but I couldn't help it. Drinking had made the pain a little more bearable.

"Oh," Dean said slowly as he realized that he was right. "Gari…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say, and I remained quiet. I definitely wasn't going to speak after that.

Unfortunately, the silence gave me time to think. No matter how I tried to distract myself, I couldn't get the image of that little boy's terrified face out of my mind, and I couldn't ignore the lingering taste of his blood on my tongue.

_Stop, stop, stop! _I thought desperately. The voice was eerily quiet, and its absence confused me. I had expected many sarcastic, degrading remarks on how pathetic I was. _Don't think about it. Don't freak out. Don't break down. Think of something else—_anything _else!_

But it was too late. The guilt was too much. I couldn't escape it, couldn't hold it back. I was sick, disgusted, _nauseated _at myself.

_O—okay, that's _actual _nausea. Fuck, I'm gonna be sick._

"Dean," I spoke up shakily. He didn't reply, continuing to stare straight ahead at the road. "Dean, pull over," I tried again. His eyes flicked toward me briefly. _This is _not_ the time to be ignoring me, Dean! _The nausea grew stronger, and I had to cover my mouth to hold back a gag. "Dean, pull over _now_!" I yelped.

He looked at me again, and his eyes grew wide with panic. "Shit!" he exclaimed. He jerked the steering wheel harshly and parked on the side of the road. I knew he was probably more worried about his car than me, but I didn't care.

I was out of the car before it even stopped. I dropped to my knees and immediately started puking my guts up. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see the violently red hue of the vomit. Calloused hands pulled back my hair, and I opened my mouth to thank Dean, but then another wave of nausea hit.

We must have been on the side of the road for at least twenty minutes. Finally, I sat back on my heels and opened my eyes. Dean released my hair, and I rasped out a soft thanks.

"You okay?" he asked gruffly, trying to hide the worry in his voice. I pressed my lips together and nodded slightly, afraid that, if I tried to speak again, more than words would come out. "Sam never did that," he said.

"Yeah, well, Sam never murdered a kid," I snapped weakly, wincing at the soreness of my throat. "He didn't have the guilt. Not like I do."

Dean didn't say anything for a minute, obviously trying to think of a way to reply to that. "You wanna get back in the car and try this again?" he asked finally. I nodded, and he helped me to my feet. "Just try not to ruin the upholstery."

He smirked at me, and I gave a weak laugh. "I'll do my best."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Dean knocked urgently on Bobby's door. His eyes darted back and forth between it and me worriedly, and with good reason. I wasn't doing too well. I was jittery and dizzy and nauseated and _thirsty_. I had never gone through withdrawals so quickly before. It was like my body knew what was about to happen, and it wasn't happy.

I swayed unsteadily, and Dean's hand clamped down on my shoulder to steady me. "Thanks," I sighed.

Just then, Bobby opened the door. He already looked pissed, and I was about to ask why when he snapped, "What the hell happened? Sam showed up a few hours ago outta his mind with worry. Said ya wouldn't answer the phone or nothin'. Ya just up and left."

I panicked at Sam's name. "He's _here_?" I croaked. My mind went into a paranoid frenzy. _He can't see me! I can't let him see me! He just—he _can't _see me! He _can't_!_

"Yeah, he's upstairs," Bobby answered agitatedly. "Ya wanna go apologize now? The man's been pacin' around up there since he got here, and I can't even hear myself _think_. He clomps around like a friggin' moose."

I clutched Dean's sleeve desperately and stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "You can't let him see me," I pleaded, my voice cracking with irrational fear. I knew if I saw Sam, I'd lose it. I couldn't bear to think of how he would look at me once he knew what I'd done. Not even _he _could forgive me for that.

"Okay, c'mon." Dean grabbed my arm reassuringly and lead me past Bobby to the basement door.

"What the hell—?" the older hunter started, but he stopped when he saw where we were going. "Gari, ya didn't…" I looked at him with tear-filled eyes and nodded slowly. "Dammit, girl… What were ya thinkin'?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered; then I turned away before I could see the disgust on his face. I followed Dean down into the basement and halted at the panic room door.

"You ready?" he asked as he opened the door.

I nodded firmly, not trusting my voice. I knew what Sam went through in there—the hallucinations, the fits, everything. Hell, I'd been a part of it. I certainly wasn't looking forward to _experiencing _it. But I had no choice. I had to do it. I had to get clean. For Sam. For _me_.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside the panic room. Dean closed the door behind me, and I was left alone with my guilt.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Not ten minutes later, the grate in the door opened, and a pair of soft hazel eyes gazed through.

_Fuck. Why did he have to come down here? Why _now_?_

"Sam," I said simply, trying not to show how devastated I was.

"Gari." He paused. "So you're really doing it this time?"

I turned away and stared at the small cot in the middle of the room. "Yeah."

"_Why_?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it." _Well, that was a _very _lame thing to say. I owe him an explanation. Him more than anyone._

"You can't do that," he argued, a slightly pleading note to his voice. I knew that if I turned around, I'd be met with those puppy dog eyes. "You can't shut me out."

"Yeah? Well, that's what I'm doing." God, I _hated_ being a bitch to him. But I knew that that was the only way he'd leave me alone. I just had to be as rude and unresponsive as possible, and then he would eventually get hurt and go away.

_I'm a terrible person. No—I'm not even a person. I'm a monster. Why can't he get that?_

"Gari, c'mon," Sam implored. "You can talk to me about this. I know what you're going through. I've gone through the same thing. You _know _that. Just talk to me."

"No. You don't," I muttered.

"Don't what?"

I spun around to face him, glaring into those warm, sincere eyes through the grate. Sure enough, he was regarding me with that heart wrenching expression. "You _don't _know what I'm going through. What I am is _so _much worse than what you were."

"What are you—?"

"Don't act like Dean didn't tell you!" I snapped. "I know he did. Hell, I would've told you myself if I wasn't so scared of the way you'd look at me after. I'm a killer, Sam. A cold-blooded _murderer_! I drained a kid dry—didn't even know his name—and I _didn't care_! I _liked _it!" I rushed forward and slammed my hands against the panic room door, feeling an irrational surge of raw fury. The door groaned in protest from the force, and Sam took a wary step back. _Why can't he understand? It's simple! I'm a _murderer_! _A monster_! I'm sick of him treating me like I can do no wrong! I don't deserve it! I deserve to be alienated, tortured, killed slowly and painfully!_

"Gari, it isn't you," Sam said quietly, trying to reason with me. "It's the blood. It does things to you, messes with your head. It's not your fault!"

"Why don't you _get _it?" I snarled, pressing even harder against the door, and it started to cave in under the pressure. "It _is _me! It's _always _been me! I am _so _fucked up, Sam! I'm barely even _human_! I should be put down like the monster I am!"

"Don't _say _that!" His voice grew louder and panicked, and he stepped toward the door again. "Don't _ever_ say that."

"Why not?" I gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "It's true! Why not say it?"

"Because it's _not _true, Gari," he insisted. The door made a loud, shrill, scraping noise as he opened it. He came inside, his hands held out in a placating gesture. "It's not true," he repeated, seeming to think he could persuade me. "You're not a monster."

I backed away from him hurriedly. "Don't come near me!" I yelped. "You don't know what I'm capable of!"

"I'm not scared of you, Gari," he said calmly, still advancing toward me. "Just relax. It's gonna be okay."

Oh, how I wanted to believe him.

"That's bullshit! It's _never _gonna be okay!" Tears welled up in my eyes, and I made no move to stop them as they fell.

"Garideth, listen to me." Sam grabbed my hand hesitantly, but I pulled away.

"Leave me alone, Sam," I warned, taking another step back.

"We can get through this, Garideth," he continued softly, reaching for me again. "Together. You and me. You've just gotta let me help you."

That same irrational anger coursed through me again at his words. "I don't want your help! I don't _need _your help!" I closed the small distance between us and glared up at him furiously. "So _leave. Me. ALONE!_" I yelled, shoving him hard with both hands. He flew back into the wall and slid down to the floor with a groan.

My hands flew over my mouth as I realized what I'd done. "Oh, my God!" I gasped. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—!"

"What the hell's going on down here?" Dean exclaimed angrily as he stomped down the stairs.

"I—I pushed him," I explained shakily, biting my lip—partly because of how ashamed and horrified I was at what I'd done, and partly because I was trying _so_ hard not to cry again.

Dean glared at me, and there was no longer pity in his eyes. There was only rage and disgust. I'd hurt his little brother. I deserved it. "Why's the door open, anyway?" he asked tersely.

"That's my fault," Sam said as he used the wall to help him to his feet. "I was trying to calm her down."

"Yeah, well, _awesome_ job with that, Sammy," Dean replied scathingly. "I'm real proud of ya." Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean turned to me. "You know how it goes," he said with a shrug. "You hurt my brother again, I'm cuffin' you to the cot." I nodded hastily, in complete agreement with him. "Alright, then. You two play nice." He glanced between the two of us worriedly before heading back up the stairs.

Sam regarded me warily, and that look—the look I'd dreaded this entire time—was finally on his face. He was scared of me. Scared and disgusted. That look sent a jab of pain so sharp through my heart that I almost gasped aloud.

"Sam, I am _so _sorry," I said desperately. I didn't try to hold back the tears this time. I couldn't even if I'd wanted to. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You've gotta believe that. I would _never _mean to hurt you."

His face hardened into an unreadable mask, letting no emotion through whatsoever. It killed me when he did that. "I'll leave you alone now," he said as he turned to go.

"Sammy, wait!" I cried, latching onto his arm.

He shook me off. "It's Sam," he corrected harshly.

I stood frozen with shock and despair as he slammed the panic room door and closed the grate.

"I told ya you fuck up everything," a deep, menacing, hauntingly familiar voice said from behind me.

I spun around quickly, pressing my back against the door as I saw who it was.

"_D—Dad_?" I gasped disbelievingly, fear coursing through my veins.

"Hello, Garideth."

The hallucinations had already begun.

***dances around with a bunch of creepy monsters while summoning the dark lord Satan***

**Yeah, I may be a bit evil.**

**Anyway… HA. Now you have a cliffhanger that doesn't take place in an episode! What will happen next? NO ONE KNOWS BUT ME. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**AND BEWARE.**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	20. I Knew, I Knew I'd Lose You

**Sorry this is up a bit later than planned. I wanted to have it up last weekend, but it was my senior prom on Friday, and my cousin got married on Saturday, and I was up at my grandparents' lake house on Sunday.**

**Anyway, I should warn you that this is mainly gonna be a bunch of hallucinations. Some will be evil and some will be helpful and some will just be… there.**

**Plus side: Ella comes back for a little bit in here!**

**Down side: Everything else.**

**So, yeah. Try to enjoy it.**

My father stood in front of me, looking exactly as he did so many years ago. There was that same glazed-over look in his eyes, that same disappointed and angry frown turning down the corners of his mouth. He clutched a half-empty whisky bottle in his hand, and he knocked back a large swig of it as he took a few unsteady steps toward me.

_I'm prepared for this, _I told myself as I tried to push even further back against the door. _I knew that I was gonna have to deal with hallucinations. I know he's not real. He's _not _real. _But, somehow, that didn't make me feel any better.

"I should've known it'd be you," I said shakily. I clenched my fists in the hopes that I would stop trembling. "Guess it's good to get the worst over with, though, right? I mean, my brain can't possibly produce anything worse than _you_."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, girl," my dad said with a smirk. "You're even more fucked up now than ya were when you were a kid. S'no tellin' what ya got hidden up in that wacked out brain of yours."

"You're just trying to scare me," I protested, though even I noticed the note of uncertainty in my voice. "That's what hallucinations do. You'll terrorize me for awhile; then whoever's next will help me justify my actions, and then it'll keep going until I'm clean."

"Or until ya die," my father added, his smirk growing as I flinched. "Sure, you've seen your freak of a boyfriend make it through, but you're a hell of a lot worse than he was. He never drank a _kid_."

"Shut up!" I snapped. "You dunno what will happen to me any more than I do! You're in my head. You're just as ignorant as I am when it comes to this!"

"So either of us could be right."

I opened my mouth to argue, but I found that he had a point. I _didn't _know what would happen to me. Besides the fact that Sam hadn't been as bad as I was, he was also half human. What the hell was I? Half demon, half witch, and _all _monster. _I could die in here._

_No, no, no, don't think like that! That's what he wants. That's why he's here._

"So how're we gonna pass the time, girl?" my dad asked, and I could detect that menacing glint in his eyes that meant he'd start swinging soon. "I dunno what you're thinkin', but I got eighteen years of anger stored up inside me that I never got to share with ya."

My eyes widened, and fear made my heart race faster than I would've thought possible. "D—dad, please," I managed to say around the terror that had gripped my throat. "Please don't. I didn't mean to—"

"To what? _Kill _me?"

"It was an accident!" I yelped, sliding my back against the wall to avoid him as he moved closer. "What was I supposed to do? I was just a kid, and you blamed me and beat me for _everything_! I had _no_ control over what happened!"

"_That's a lie_!" he snarled, and, before I could even blink, he backhanded me across the cheek. My head hit the wall with a thud, and I let out a small gasp of pain.

_I've had worse than this, _I told myself. _I've had _so _much worse than this. I can take anything he throws at me. Even that goddamn whisky bottle._

I sidestepped to get out of his reach, and I forced a grin to my face. "That was nothing," I said with false confidence. "I've faced a hundred shifters, a thousand ghosts, a million demons. You're just a human. You're _weak_."

My father let out a wordless cry of rage and swung the whisky bottle at my head, just like I knew he would. I ducked just in time, but he kept swinging. I dodged a few more times, but I was growing tired fast. _He's a hallucination. He'll never stop. He'll just keep coming. Oh, God. What the fuck am I supposed to _do_?_

My thoughts distracted me, and, by the time I noticed what was happening, the bottle connected with the side of my head and shattered. I fell to the floor, wincing as my hands fell on little shards of glass. I wiped the alcohol and blood from my face with my sleeve, and glass tumbled out of my hair and to the ground around me as I shook my head.

"Ya always _were _slower than me," my dad said as he leaned down over me.

I scrambled backwards over the floor, but he just kept coming. Finally, my back hit the opposite wall, and I knew I had nowhere to go. "Please," I begged. "Please, just leave me alone!" His hand gripped my hair, and he used that grip to pull me halfway off the floor. "_Please, Dad_!" I cried. "_Let me go_!"

I jerked my head back and felt the hair part from my scalp. I screamed out in pain, but that didn't stop me from moving away from my father as quickly as I could. My hand went to the back of my head, and, when I pulled it away, it was covered in blood.

As the smell of my own blood reached my nose, my eyes widened. _It—it smells like demon blood. Does that mean—?_

Without a second thought, I licked the blood from my fingers. My tongue tingled with a renewed sense of energy, and the feeling ran all the way down to my toes. I got to my feet and faced my dad with a grin. A confused look crossed his face, but it soon faded, only to be replaced with that same hateful glare. He took a step toward me, his hand already prepared to strike.

"_Back off_," I growled, clenching my fists as power rose up through me.

"Ya think I'm scared of ya or somethin'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement as he came even closer.

"You _should _be." With that, I let loose my powers and directed them at my dad. He went flying across the room and banged his head against the small table under the mirror. I advanced on him with a twisted smirk. "How about a little role reversal?" I said to him, and he stared up at me with the smallest trace of fear in his eyes. "It's _your _turn to be scared; it's _your _turn to be weak; it's _your _turn to be _pathetic_! You can't hurt me anymore!" The fear in his eyes grew, and so did my smile.

I reached down and wrapped a hand around his neck, then lifted him up off the floor. "W—what're ya doin'?" he choked.

"Getting rid of you," I replied as I tightened my grip. My dad coughed and struggled to get free, but I didn't let go. "You can't hurt me anymore," I repeated slowly, and I squeezed hard one more time.

Suddenly, my father disappeared, and I sank to the ground. All of the strength I'd felt earlier faded with my dad's presence, and now I felt weary and sick again.

I made my way to the cot with difficulty, and I flopped down on it and stared up at the vent in the ceiling. Even _that _had a pentagram on it. _Bobby sure knew what he was doing when he made this thing… Or maybe he was just paranoid._

_I wonder how long this is gonna take… Sam took a week, and that was just from drinking it for a day. I've been drinking it for about a year and a half, probably closer to two. _

_God, what if I never get out of here? What if I die in here? Dad was right—I dunno what's gonna happen to me. I dunno if I'll go through what Sam did or not. Obviously I'm having the hallucinations, but who knows what else could happen to me in here? I could just have hallucinations, or I could have hallucinations and fits, or I could have something else entirely. _

_Or I could die._

The negativity of that thought made me wonder where the voice was. I hadn't heard from it since that terrible pain in my head after…

_No. Don't think about that. Think about something else._

_I defeated my father! Yeah. A hallucination of him, but still. That's something to be proud of. And he's gone. I don't have to worry about him appearing again, and maybe now the nightmares of him will finally stop. I know I can stand up to him now. I know I can fight him and win._

_Maybe I shouldn't have been so scared of being in here. I mean, what can my brain think of that's worse than my dad? It'll be smooth sailing from here._

_I hope._

I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh. I tried not to think about what I'd done to Sam and how badly I'd screwed up. I had enough to worry about right now without stressing over relationship troubles.

Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I readjusted my position on the cot and finally drifted into a restless sleep.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

In my dream, I was in Ella's house. It was eerily quiet—Devon, Jess, and Emily were nowhere to be found, and the twins weren't making any noise from their nursery.

_What am I doing here? _I wondered.

A phone rang, sounding out a cheesy pop song, one that I recognized as Ella's ringtone. Without being consciously aware of it, I picked the phone up and flipped it open.

"Dean?" I asked, my voice shaking with relief. "What's goin' on? Why'd ya take off?"

I suddenly realized that I was having another of my weird Ella-dreams, and that only confused me more.

_I'm supposed to be detoxing! Shouldn't my powers be fading? Why the fuck am I seeing this?_

I continued—well, _Ella_ continued to talk to Dean, though he wouldn't say much. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to tell her what happened myself, or if he just didn't want to get into it with her over locking me in the panic room again.

"Just get to Bobby's as soon as you can," he said on the other line. "I'll explain later."

"Ya realize how hard it is to just get up and go, right?" Ella said agitatedly. "We got kids now, Dean. And they're not even two yet! I can't just drop everythin'!"

"Elle, I'm serious. You need to get here." He paused, and I could hear him sigh. I could picture him running a hand over his face, like he always did when stressed. "I know it's a tall order. But you're gonna wanna be here."

"Dean, baby, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "What aren't ya tellin' me?"

"Ella, it's… it's about Gari."

"_What_?" she gasped, leaping to her feet. "What happened? Is she hurt? Dean, what—?"

"No, she's not hurt," he said hurriedly. "She's—she, uh, she just needs you to be here, okay?"

"Okay. Okay, I'll be there soon as I can." Without waiting for his reply, she hung up the phone. She placed her hands on her hips and frowned. "What'd ya get yourself into now, Gari?" she muttered to herself, and then my dream ended.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Hey, G," a voice said from somewhere near the foot of the cot. My eyes popped open and I let out a gasp of shock. I sat straight up and stared at the achingly familiar man standing next to me. His sapphire blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he gave me a small smile. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. His smile grew, causing those Harken dimples to appear in his tan, unshaved cheeks. His dark brown hair was unkempt and longer than he usually wore it, but I realized that it had been that long the day he died.

"Greg," I croaked, fighting back tears. "You're here. Why are you here?"

"I had to check up on ya," Greg said, coming to sit beside me. "'Specially after what ya just went through."

Though it pained me to do so, I looked away from him. "Are you gonna tell me how fucked up I am, too?" I asked softly.

"No," he replied, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I glanced up at him in surprise. "I'm just here because ya need me."

"So you're one of _them_," I muttered. I debated shaking his hand off, but I couldn't bring myself to do that.

"One of what?" he asked confusedly.

"You're here to tell me that what I did was okay, that you're proud of me," I clarified. "Dad was here to terrorize me, and you're here to lull me into a false sense of security."

"No, I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not here to tell you that what ya did was okay."

"Oh."

"'Cause it wasn't."

"I know."

"Ya _really _messed up, G."

I stared down at my hands. "I know."

"Does he really mean that much to ya?"

I looked up sharply. "What? You think this was all about _Sam_?"

He gave me a knowing grin, and it was so familiar it hurt. I remembered receiving that grin whenever I'd done something behind his back, like sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to a _Rocky Horror _showing with a boy I'd just met.

"I'm a hallucination, G. I'm in your head." I glanced back down at my hands. "So?" he prompted. "Does he?"

I sighed in defeat. "Yeah, he does," I admitted. "And I know it's stupid. I know how fast I fell for him. I know I said that I was happy alone. But I love him, G. And I… I'm nothing without him." I laughed at myself. "I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. I'm so much better when I'm with him. Or, at least, I _was_."

Greg was quiet for a minute. "Ya really had to choose a Winchester, though?" he asked finally.

I busted out laughing, and he soon joined in, the dimples in his cheeks appearing once again. "Hey, at least I chose the sensitive, responsible one!" I said in mock-defense. "I could've chosen the rebellious, womanizing one!" My eyes narrowed slyly. "But Ella did that."

He gave me one of his Dad Glares, but it soon broke as he chuckled again. "Yeah, fine, I guess it coulda been worse," he relented, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "And I guess if you're happy, I'm happy."

My smile faded slowly. "I think I've lost him, G," I confessed softly. "I wish I'd just told him from the beginning. This could've been over a long time ago. I might've actually had a chance of keeping our relationship the way it was. I mean, it was never perfect, but it was good. We loved each other, trusted each other. Times like these, trust is one of the most important things you can have. And I ruined that."

I dropped my head into my hands, and his hand rubbed small circles on my back. I realized then why it calmed me down so much when Sam did that—it was something that Greg used to do. That realization brought a fresh prickling of tears to my eyes.

"You can fix it, G," Greg said quietly. "I'm sure ya can. If your thoughts about him are right, then you can fix it. He'll forgive ya eventually. You'll have to work for it, yeah, but you can do it."

"But what if I went too far?" I asked, my voice cracking as I looked up at him for reassurance. "What if everything I've done finally got to be too much for him?"

"Sam was always the smart one," he said thoughtfully. "If he's got any brains at all, he won't give up on ya just yet."

I couldn't help but smile. "I'm getting dating advice from a hallucination of my dead dad who's not really my dad," I said, shaking my head. "My life is weird."

Greg grinned. "Got that right."

He started to pull his hand away, and I frowned. "What are you doing?" I asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"G, y'know I can't stay forever," he replied sadly.

"But you don't have to go yet! You can stay a little longer, can't you?" I said pleadingly, my eyes once again flooding with tears.

"I wish I could," he told me, and he wrapped me in a spine-crushing Harken hug. I hugged him back with all my might, trying to remember the way his arms felt around me. I hadn't felt that in seven years, and I didn't know how I'd survived that long without him.

He released me and started to pull away. I caught one of his hands and squeezed tight. "Please don't go," I begged hoarsely, tears streaming down my face. "_Please_."

"I'm sorry." He gazed at me lovingly, even as he started to fade. "Love ya, G."

"I love you, too," I murmured, but he was already gone.

I looked around the empty panic room, and, feeling lonelier than I would've thought possible, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

The door to the panic room flew open all of a sudden, and I was attacked by a mass of strawberry blonde hair.

"Ella!" someone called from outside the room, and I saw Dean through the messy curls in front of my face. "You can't just bust up in there!"

Ella released me finally and spun around, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "Ya gonna tell me I can't hug my sister?" she snapped. "I don't care _what _she's been doin'; she's still Gari, and I'm still gonna be here for her!" Dean shook his head and closed the door, and I could hear him stomping up the stairs.

I gave Ella a tired smile as she turned back to me. "Hey, babe," I said. "So I'm guessing you figured out what's going on here?"

She sat down beside me and grabbed both my hands. "You're really doin' it this time, huh?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so."

"I told ya you shoulda stayed with us!" she exclaimed. "This wouldn'ta happened if ya had!"

I wondered if she was right—maybe this _wouldn't _have happened if I'd taken her and Dean up on their offer. It definitely would've been easier to cope with the grief of losing Sam, even if I _had_ been around his brother. And then we could've fought off all of those demons together, instead of me having to fight them by myself. I could've been happy—well, happier than I was all alone.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, hanging my head in dismay.

Her arms went around me again, and she said, "It's okay! Like I said to Dean, you're still Gari, and you're still my big sister! No matter what ya did."

I pulled away from her. "Even if I killed a kid?" I whispered.

Shock registered in her big blue eyes, but she quickly masked that. "Even then," she confirmed with a nod. "And I'm gonna help ya through this in any way I can." She was quiet for a minute. "_Is _there any way I can help?" she asked finally, grabbing my hands again.

"I—I don't think so," I admitted, squeezing her tiny hands tightly. "But I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you haven't given up on me yet."

She gave me a thousand-watt smile. "I'll never give up on ya," she promised. "Anyway, why don't ya just tell me what you've been doin' in here?"

I laughed lightly. How like Ella to try to keep everything upbeat. "Well, I've been doing a lot of sitting around and sleeping," I said with a grin. "Nothing exciting, but at least I'm not flying around the room or anything." An unspoken _yet _lingered at the end of the sentence, but neither of us acknowledged it.

She smiled back at me, but it soon faded, replaced by a very thoughtful look. "Have ya… Uh, have ya seen anythin' yet?" she mumbled, not meeting my eye.

I decided to be honest with her. As far as I knew, she was the only one who still had any faith in me, and I wasn't going to ruin that by lying. "Yeah," I told her. "I saw my dad as soon as I got in."

Her eyes widened in horror. "What'd he do?" she asked frantically. "Did he hurt ya?"

I nodded slightly. "But I got rid of him." I wasn't about to tell her howI got rid of him. She didn't need to know _that _much.

She nodded. "I'm proud of ya," she said, and I grinned.

"I'm proud of me, too."

"So, uh, see anythin' else?"

Here was the part I was scared to tell her. I didn't know _how _she'd react to knowing that I'd seen Greg. We kind of tried to avoid that subject, for obvious reasons, and I wasn't sure I wanted to bring it up now.

"Gari?" she pressed softly, and my eyes met hers hesitantly. "Ya saw Dad, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, Elle," I admitted. "Yeah, I did."

"What did he say?" she pressed desperately, her grip on my hands tightening slightly. "Did he look the same?" She hesitated, and an intense look of fear crossed her face. "_He _didn't—?"

"No, no!" I interrupted hurriedly, and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Elle, this is Greg we're talking about. He'd _never_ hurt me, hallucination or not."

"So what'd he say to ya?" she asked again.

"He told me how much I'd messed up," I said, "but it didn't matter to him."

"Of course not! He'd never give up on ya, either."

I gave her a small smile. "No, he wouldn't," I agreed.

"What else did y'all talk about?"

"Honestly? Boy problems."

She laughed loudly. "You're kiddin', right? Ya talked boys with _Dad_?"

"Yeah, and he's not too happy about you and Dean," I teased.

"He's _never _happy with the boys I like," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"That's because you have a father-unfriendly type! Imagine what he'd have said if you'd shown up with Dean back when we were teenagers!"

"He'd friggin' _shoot _him!" Ella exclaimed happily. "He'd take one look at that leather jacket, those tight-assed jeans, and that smirk, and he'd pull out his gun and shoot him on the spot!"

"Damn straight! And Dean would deserve it, too! We _know _how bad he is now, but think of what he'd be like as a teenage boy! No janitor's closet would be safe!" I wiggled my eyebrows. "Which, come to think of it, closets were never safe from _you_, either," I said slyly.

"Oh, shush!" She slapped my arm playfully, but, suddenly, she frowned and squeezed my hands again.

"What's wrong, babe?" I asked worriedly.

"How long d'ya think you'll be in here?" she murmured as she stared down at our hands. "How long d'ya think it'll be till you're clean?"

"I really don't know," I said truthfully. "Sam was in here for two weeks last time, but I'm different. There's no telling how long I'm gonna be in here or what I'll go through to get clean. I could have fits, or I could have something completely different." I bit my lip. "Between you and me, I'm hoping for the fits. I don't wanna think about what else could happen to me in here."

Her sapphire blue eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Well, just know that I'll be here till ya get out. I got the babies upstairs, so I don't have to worry about them at all, and, after this, we can just go back to bein' completely normal monster hunters."

I laughed lightly. "Sounds like a plan."

Suddenly, the door opened and Dean poked his head in. "Elle, maybe you should get out now," he suggested.

"I'm not leavin' just 'cause ya say so!" she snapped angrily. "Who d'ya think you—?"

"Elle, no, it's okay!" I broke in. I couldn't be the cause of Dean and Ella fighting. I'd screwed up one relationship already—two was too much. "He's probably right. I don't want you to be here if I start hallucinating again."

"Ya sure?" she asked, and I nodded. "Okay." She reluctantly released my hands and stood up. "But ya lemme know if ya need anythin', 'kay?"

"Gotcha," I said. "And, Elle?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being here for me."

She gave me a wide, dimple-cheeked Harken grin. "Anytime, sis."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

There was a knock on the door, and I looked up to see Sam coming into the room.

"Hi," I said lamely, trying not to immediately jump into the massive apology I owed him.

"Hey," he replied, and I frowned at his guarded expression.

_Oh, fuck it, _I thought resignedly.

"Sam, I'm _so _sorry!" I rushed out as I rose to my feet. "I'm sorry I shoved you, and I'm sorry I started drinking demon blood, and, most of all, I'm sorry I lied to you for so long!"

"It's okay."

"I shouldn't have done any of that!" I continued obliviously. "If I could take it all back, you _know_ I would! You _know _I'd never deliberately do _any _of this!"

"Gari, it's okay," he tried again, giving me a fond smile. "I forgive you."

"You—_what_?" I exclaimed, utterly bewildered. "But, earlier, you said—_what_?"

He shrugged, looking sort of ashamed. "I understand better than anyone what it can do to you," he explained, not meeting my eyes. He came over and sat on the cot. I sank down beside him, my eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. "Did I ever tell you about my and Dean's biggest fight?" he asked after a while.

"Which one?" I muttered, and he grinned.

"This one's different," he said, his smile fading. "It wasn't just some yelling and throwing a few punches. It was… _bad_."

I sensed the distress in his voice and hesitantly took his hand. Thankfully, he didn't pull away. "What happened?" I pressed softly.

"It was after Cas let me out of here," he told me quietly, "when Ruby and I were going after Lilith. I ran off and met up with her, and Dean found us and tried to kill her." He scoffed and shook his head. "I wish I'd let him," he said. "Would've saved us a lot of trouble."

"Yeah, avoiding the Apocalypse would've been nice," I agreed teasingly, and he rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," he went on, "I helped her get away, and Dean and I started arguing, and he called me a…" I squeezed his hand gently, conveying that I understood, and he gave me a grateful smile. "So I decked him. And then we _really _got into it. You should've seen the hotel room once we'd finished. I feel bad for the maid who had to clean it up."

He shook his head slightly and continued, but his voice dropped to a whisper, and he finally pulled his hand away. "I almost killed him," he confessed. "I realized what I was doing at the last minute and managed to stop, but still. My own _brother_, Gari."

"Sammy…" I murmured, and, to my relief, he didn't correct me. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he turned around slowly.

He was grinning. It was cold and cruel, and his eyes were empty and emotionless. I jumped back with a gasp of shock and fear. "I can't believe you fell for that," he chuckled. "You really _are _messed up, aren't you?"

"I—I'm hallucinating," I said shakily, backing away as he stood up. "The real Sam—he has a soul now."

"Yeah, I do," Fake-Sam nodded, "and this is what happened when the wall fell. I told you that 'douchey, emotionless Sam' was my way of coping with Hell, didn't I?"

"That's not possible!" I protested. "You—_Sam _was fine earlier today!"

"'Earlier today?'" he echoed amusedly. "You've been in here three weeks, Gari!"

"You're _lying_!" I yelped. "There's no _way _I've been in here that long without them checking on me!"

"Oh, we check in on you at least three times a day," Fake-Sam said dismissively. "You're just always too out of it to notice. This is only my first time checking on you today, but Dean, Ella, and Bobby have all been here twice."

I had no idea how to argue with that, so I switched back to an earlier subject. "How come you're not catatonic?" I asked.

"Uh, what?"

"Last time you had a Hell flashback, you started seizing, and then went catatonic," I said slowly. "So how are you functioning?"

"I told you—I found a way to cope. It's just like being soulless, only I get to sleep now. I don't even have nightmares!" he said triumphantly, that cold grin spreading over his face again. "I am completely _fine_, and I don't have to worry about that stupid morality crap anymore." With that, he closed the distance between us swiftly.

I stumbled backwards, holding my hands up in defense. "W—what d'you mean?"

He pulled his pistol out of his waistband, and his empty eyes sparked with something like excitement. "I mean I can do _this_," he said, pulling the trigger, and I let out a cry and clutched my shoulder, "without having to feel guilty about it later." He smirked and stepped closer to me, and I glared up at him, gritting my teeth to keep from making a sound. "Ooh, that's the same shoulder as last time, isn't it?" he asked. "That must really _hurt_." His hand shot out as quick as lightning, and he dug his thumb into the bullet wound.

I yelped in pain and fell to my knees. "Sam, _please_!" I cried. "Please _stop_!" He just grinned wider and dug his thumb in deeper. "_Please_!"

He finally let me go, and I fell forward, just barely catching myself before I hit the ground. "You're _pathetic_," Sam hissed. "_Look _at you. Not even _demon blood_ could make you strong enough to be alone. You turned yourself into a freak, into a _monster_, and for what?"

I cradled my head in my hands as my body shook uncontrollably. "Not real," I mumbled to myself. "You're _not real_."

He grabbed my arms roughly and lifted me off the floor. Before I was fully aware of what was happening, my wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the cot, and I was rendered completely helpless.

"But don't worry," he said in a falsely reassuring tone. "I'm here to help."

That's when I saw the long, serrated knife in his hand. That's when I started screaming.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I couldn't stop shaking.

Finally, after what could've been long hours or mere minutes of excruciating pain, Sam had disappeared with a spine-chilling laugh that should _never _have come out of him. The blood had remained longer than he had, and at first I freaked out and wondered if I _hadn't _been hallucinating. But, after the initial panic, all of the gashes and cuts on my body had sealed over, and all traces that I had ever been tortured were gone.

But I still remembered it.

And my sanity was failing fast.

My eyes flicked around the room frantically, waiting with anxious dread for the next hallucination. I wracked my brain, going through all the possibilities of who it could be. I had narrowed it down to Dean, Bobby, Ella, or Crowley.

Dean would probably yell at me, especially about hurting his brother, and he would tell me that the trust we'd worked so hard to reach was gone. Bobby would tell me how disappointed in me he was, that he'd come to think of me as a daughter, but he didn't know _how_ he was supposed to treat me after this. Ella would be there to tell me everything was going to be okay, just like the real her did.

And Crowley… I didn't want to think about what he would do to me.

I repeated the list of names over and over again, like a mantra, trying to prepare myself. "Dean, Bobby, Ella, Crowley. Dean, Bobby, Ella, Crowley. Dean, Bobby, Ella, Crowley."

"Gari?" a soft voice said from behind me, but I ignored it.

_Not real, _I thought. _Not _real_._

"Dean, Bobby, Ella, Crowley," I continued. "Dean, Bobby, Ella, Crowley."

"_Gari_?" that same voice tried again, and I recognized it as Sam's.

"He's been here already," I said to myself, frowning confusedly. "He's not supposed to be here again."

"Gari, what are you talking about?" Sam asked, worry coloring his tone.

"He's not _my _Sammy," I said determinedly. "Sammy isn't Sammy anymore. He's Sam. Not mine."

There was a loud bang on the door, and Sam called out, "_Garideth_!"

I yelped and flinched away, then spun around to stare at the door. "_How long_?" I demanded. His hazel eyes were wide with confusion and pity. I _hated _those emotions, and I hated those eyes that held them. "No emotion," I murmured. "Why is there emotion?"

"What?" Sam asked worriedly.

My attention focused back on him. "I've been—I don't—_how long_?"

Realization dawned in his eyes. "Three weeks," he said softly.

I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked back and forth. "No, no, no, _no_!" I mumbled despairingly. "Lying—he's _not _lying—is he lying? Lying _twice_?"

"Garideth, what _happened_ to you?" he asked, and, in his voice, I could hear his heart breaking.

"Why does he care?" I wondered aloud. "He doesn't—he's faking. Like last time. He has a gun. And a knife. And a soul. Souls are important. Do monsters have souls? Do _I _have a soul?"

"Garideth…" Sam trailed off helplessly, and heard the lock on the door slide out. The fear of him coming in the room brought me temporarily out of my thoughts.

"_You_," I snarled, glaring at him with all the hatred I could muster.

"What?" He stopped trying to open the door, instead fixing me with that pitiful puppy look.

"_You _happened to me!" I exclaimed. "You cut me and sliced me and diced me and laughed!" My hand went instinctively to my shoulder. "Bang goes the gun, slice goes the knife; blood and guts consume my life," I sang softly. I didn't know where the words came from, but they had a darkly poetic tone to them, and I liked the look on _his _face when I said them.

_Sick. Disgusted. Scared._

And… sad?

"Sam?" I asked slowly, warily, and I stepped closer to the door. I stared up into his bottomless, gentle eyes through the grate. "It _is _Sam, right? Not Sammy. Sam. Are you real?"

"Yeah, Gari," he said, relief clear in his voice and eyes. "I'm real." The door started swinging open again.

"_No_!" I yelped, pushing against it with all my might.

Sam stopped and stared at me bewilderedly. "What's wrong?"

"I—if you're real," I said shakily, "don't come in here. You hurt me in here."

"Okay," he said, but I could tell how much what I said bothered him. He pulled the door closed, and I heard the lock slide back into place. I relaxed instantly, and my mind already felt clearer than it had even five seconds ago. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I gave a mirthless laugh. "What d'you think?" I replied. "I'm losing my fucking mind. But I'm sure you've noticed that."

"I don't understand. That never happened to me."

"We're different, Sammy—uh, Sam," I said hurriedly, biting my lip, and he frowned. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn't figure out how to say it. I decided to continue talking. "I mean, yeah, we were both on go-juice, but you're still part human. I'm… Well, we're not even totally sure what the fuck to call me, are we?" I shrugged. "I guess we can just stick with 'demon witch.' Sad, really, that that's about as creative as it gets."

"At least you haven't been flying around the room," he said, trying to stay optimistic for my sake. "You've been in there longer than I ever have, and you're still just hallucinating."

"And going insane," I added with a roll of my eyes. "But I guess hallucinating falls under that category, doesn't it? And don't say, 'just hallucinating.' I'd rather be slammed against the walls than see…" I trailed off uncomfortably, and an awkward silence ensued.

"Why'd you do it?" Sam asked finally.

I snapped my head up to look at him. "It _was _an accident," I said. "Think whatever you want about the rest of it, but at least know that that's true. I didn't just wake up one day that you weren't there and think, 'Hey, I should start drinking demon blood! Sam would be _so _proud of me!' I'm not an idiot."

"I know."

"I was always being followed by demons, ever since I left Bobby's after you took the swan dive," I said quietly. "And, one day, one of them—" I stopped abruptly and narrowed my eyes at him. "Now don't tell me Deano didn't tell you all of this already?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he did, but I wanted to hear it from you."

"Well, if he kept true to what I told him, you already know why I did it. How it got started, why I kept going. I know Dean doesn't skimp on details when it's about something so important."

"You should've told me, Gari," he said. "As soon as I got my soul back, you should've told me. I wouldn't have been mad."

"You think I don't know that?" I snapped. "You think I don't wish I could go back and tell you? Or go back and never do it in the first place? As Megadeth once said, 'Hindsight is always 20/20.' There's nothing I can do but face the consequences now."

"And you're not even _trying _to get out?"

"You don't get it, do you?" I said exasperatedly. "I _want _to be clean. I wasn't like you. I wasn't doing this for some magnificent purpose. I was an addict because it took away the pain. And that was all I wanted. I wanted the pain of losing you to go away. I don't need that anymore—well, I didn't a month ago."

Confusion shone in Sam's eyes. "What d'you mean?"

I laughed again. "C'mon, Sam. Both of us know we're over. Hell, _you're _the one whoended it. 'It's Sam,' _remember_? Doesn't get much clearer than that." He suddenly looked angry, but I had no idea why. "I don't blame you in the _least_," I said hurriedly. "I mean, I _really _fucked up. I'd dump me, too. I mean, after all the shit I've done—and not just to you—I deserve it. I deserve _much _worse."

"I'm pretty sure being in there is enough," he said darkly, and I knew he was trying to change the subject.

I looked up at him with pleading eyes, suddenly feeling very sad and hopeless. "When I get out of here…" I whispered, "When I get clean… d'you think we could ever go back to what we used to be?"

"Garideth…" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut in before he had the chance.

"Okay, yeah, I expected that." I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest, and I blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over. "I totally understand. And y'know what's funny?"

"What?" he asked sadly.

"I think I knew I'd lose you," I replied, trying to keep my voice as calm and casual as I possibly could. "Maybe that's why I held onto you so tightly when I had you. It's been drilled into me since I was four: I fuck up everything. I tried to keep you as close to me as I could while I hadn't messed up anything because I knew it would happen eventually. I knew I'd be the one responsible for whatever came between us."

His eyes were wide with shock and sorrow, and he had moved so that his face was almost pressed up against the other side of the door. "Gari, that's not true. You don't—"

"I'd like you to leave now, if you don't mind," I mumbled. "I'm sorry, I just—I can't. I can't have you stand there and break my heart even more."

He didn't argue like I was praying he would. He just wiped his face clean of emotion and walked away.

"'Bye, Sam," I said brokenly, and I sank down to the cot before my knees could give out.

As I heard him go up the stairs, the tears I had been holding back streamed silently down my face. Pain shot through my chest as I realized that I had officially ended it between us. I'd beat him to the punch. I'd saved myself from hearing him say it.

So why did it still hurt so much?

**6,892.**

**Do you ever get disturbed by your own thoughts? I mean, I dunno, writing insane Gari kinda bothered me. I feel funny inside. And I know other people have written way worse than that, but it's just not something I'm used to. It made me uncomfortable, but I kinda liked it, too. I dunno. It's weird.**

**And, uh, I'm gonna apologize right now for any tears that may have been shed in this chapter. I know that HeadStuckInTheClouds was already predicting that she was gonna cry, and, babe, I'm sorrynotsorry if you did.**

**So, um, I'm gonna go now. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon, but I am a bit clueless what to do after I get past a certain little part, so bear with me here.**

**Anyway, it's past my bedtime on a school night—go me for being a badass—so I'm gonna hit the hay.**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	21. I'll Never Live Down My Deceit

**Jesus, guys. Sorry this took so long. This chapter was a real, angst-filled pain in the ass.**

**Another note: TAYLOR COLE IS SUPPOSED TO BE ON SUPERNATURAL TONIGHT. SARAH BLAKE IS ****_BACK_****, BITCHES! SHE AND SAM ARE ABSOLUTELY ****_PERFECT _****TOGETHER! EVEN DEAN APPROVED! (If you recall from her first episode, "Provenance," Dean said, "Sam… ****_Marry _****that girl!" BECAUSE SHE IS PERFECT.)**

**Also, we are going to have Tommy, the dude who was taken by the wendigo, and Don Stark's assistant, the crazy "hearts in my cupcakes" lady. ("There were tiny, beating hearts in my cupcakes… ****_Hearts _****in my cupcakes… That's never happened before! HEARTS IN MY CUPCAKES!" Loved her.)**

**Eh, okay, back to business. I'm not quite sure how happy I am with this, but here you go.**

**Caution: here there be angst. And HeadStuckInTheClouds, I'm not promising you that you won't cry.**

**ENJOY.**

I gulped down the glass of stale water and promptly filled it back up. I drank this one more slowly, enjoying the soothing feeling of the water sliding down my throat, even if it _was _lukewarm. My throat was dry and rough, and I knew I'd have trouble talking if the situation called for it.

I wiped a hand over my forehead, pushing back the sweat-drenched locks of hair that clung to it, and I flattened myself out on the cot. I pulled my shirt up to expose my stomach, hoping that it would help me cool down. _Why the hell is it so fucking hot in here? _I wondered agitatedly. _No matter what I do, I can't stop _sweating_. Is this just another part of the process or what?_

As I closed my eyes, I found my mind wandering back to Sam. _What have I done? What if he was coming to tell me everything was going to be okay? What if he was coming to tell me that he'd forgiven me? _I sighed deeply and rolled over onto my side. _Oh, who am I kidding? If that was the reason he came down here, he would've said it first. He wouldn't have let me ramble on. He wouldn't have let me end it. Not even Sam Winchester, King of Forgiveness, can forgive me._

I was broken out of my thoughts by the smell of something burning. My eyes popped open, and I let out a yelp as I saw fire licking the sides of the cot. "Guys!" I yelled hoarsely, hoping that they would pay attention to me. "Guys, there's a fire!" The flames had spread to cover the entire room, and the edges of the cot were charred black with ash. "Guys, please! I need—_ah_!" I jerked back as the fire burned straight through my pants and onto my thigh. "_Fuck_!" I snatched up the scratchy blanket and patted it on my leg, trying to extinguish the last of the flames clinging to me.

I stared longingly at the pitcher of water across the room and watched as the fire climbed up the table and burnt it to the ground. Even if the table was still standing, I would never have been able to get to the water without burning myself further. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" The fire was on the cot now, and I tried to pat it out with the blanket. I could only hold it back for so long before I would be overwhelmed. _Maybe it's not real, _I thought desperately. _Maybe it's just another hallucination. Maybe it'll go away when I close my eyes. _I tried that plan, but, when I opened my eyes, the fire was still there. _…Or maybe I'll burn to a crisp._

"You're doing this, y'know," a rough, sarcastic voice said, and I knew that I'd heard that voice before. I looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the voice. "Over here," it said, and I turned towards it. A tall, thin woman stepped out of a shadowy area of the room that I hadn't noticed before. She had long, platinum blonde hair that reached almost to her waist, and her full lips were stretched into a large, mocking grin. She looked strangely familiar somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on who she was. "Nice to finally meet you in person," she said.

"Who are you?" I demanded, temporarily forgetting about the fire creeping toward me.

"C'mon, think, Garideth," the woman teased. "I know you can figure it out."

"Would you cut the crap and just tell me who you _are_?" I huffed. "I'm sick of this. I have been locked in this goddamn panic room for _at least _three fucking weeks, and I am _sick _of these fucking hallucinations! So you wanna tell me who you are so we can get to the torturing or whatever?"

"I'm disappointed in you, Garideth," the woman said. "Here, I'll give you a few hints." She grinned and stepped through the flames. They licked up the side of her body, but they didn't seem to hurt her at all. "I know how to survive better than anything. You don't consider me a friend, but you wouldn't have lasted this long without me. Towards the end of our run, you started accepting my presence, but after you killed that stupid kid, you kicked me out."

Realization struck me, and my eyes widened in shock. "You—you're the voice in my head," I said slowly.

The woman smirked. "Give the girl a medal!" she praised mockingly. "See? I knew you could figure it out!" She shook her hair back over her shoulder, and the movement seemed _so _familiar.

I suddenly knew who she looked like. "Why do you look like me?" I asked, slightly dreading her answer.

"Because I _am_ you," she replied, and I gulped, my suspicions confirmed. "Or, rather, I'm what you could've been if—"

"If I'd kept drinking," I interrupted, and I tried my best to sound bored and unconcerned. "Right, yeah, got it. Well, you can just go now because there's no way I'm gonna be you."

"Imagine it, though, Garideth!" the woman exclaimed. "Don't you remember how it felt to be powerful? How it felt to kill demons with only your mind?" Her voice lowered, and her eyes glinted menacingly. "How it felt to have the blood rush through your body, to have every nerve sparking with energy? To be unstoppable?"

"N—no," I said shakily. "I don't."

She smirked again. "Even though I'm not in your head anymore, I can still tell when you're lying."

I sighed. "Okay, _fine_. _Yes_, I remember how it felt. I remember the tingling sensation and the dizzying sense of unlimited power. I remember _all _of it. And…"

"_And_?" she pressed.

"And I miss it," I confessed softly.

"Of _course _you do! You'd be stupid not to!"

"But—but that doesn't mean anything!" I argued, and the flames flared up momentarily. I slid further into the center of the cot and curled up my legs. "It doesn't mean that I'm gonna start back up again! I _want _to get clean!"

The Woman—that's what I decided to call her; I couldn't think of her as me—laughed lightly. "Look at yourself, Garideth. You can't even stop the fire. You're _pathetic_. You're stuck in here with no powers and no way out, and you've got no one left."

"That's not true!" I protested desperately. _Don't let her get to you. _Don't _let her get to you._ "Even after this, the boys and Elle will still be there for me!"

"Do you _really _believe that?" the Woman asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

"_Yes_!" I replied fiercely and with _way _more conviction than I actually felt.

She smirked at me, as if to say _yeah, right_. "So you _don't _think Dean stopped trusting you the minute you hurt his brother?" she said casually. "You _don't _think Bobby has no idea how to treat you after this? You _don't _think Ella is just being Ella and pretending you're still her sister? And you _don't _think Sammy—I'm sorry, _Sam_—will never be able to get past this, to get past what was said and done by both of you, and love you again?"

I blinked back tears at her words. I knew she was right. I knew nothing would ever be the same again. "Please," I whispered. "Don't—just leave me alone. You've done enough."

"No, I don't think so," she said with a shake of her head. "You're not hurting enough yet. Now, let's see… What can I torture you with now?" She tapped her index finger against her chin thoughtfully. "I mean, of course, this is before we get to the _actual _torture."

My eyes widened in fear. "Wait, what—what d'you—?"

"Oh, _yes_, Garideth," the Woman said gleefully. "We'll get to the fun stuff later. Now, this—_this_ is just the emotional crap. This is just the first step." She paused. "Well, actually it's the—" She looked up at the ceiling and counted off on her fingers, "Let's see—your dad, Greg, Soulless Sam, and our little talking session—that makes four. So, technically, it's the fourth step."

"H—how many steps are there?" I asked warily.

"Oh, you'll find out soon," she promised, smirking at me again. _Do I really look that evil when I smirk? Man, I've gotta stop doing that. _"Hmmm, what do we talk about now?" She raised her eyebrows at me. "Any ideas?" I wrapped my arms around my knees and looked away from her. "No? Okay, well, then… How about we talk about Sam?"

_No, no, no, no, _no_! Not Sam, _I thought desperately._ Anything but Sam._ However, I kept my face completely neutral, positive that if she saw me betray any emotion, she'd jump at it.

It didn't seem to work, for she grinned widely and said, "Yes, let's go with that. Did you see his face when he looked in that grate for the first time?" she asked. She placed her hand over her heart dramatically. "He was so worried about you! It was _so sweet_. But then you just _had_ to push him away and piss both brothers off. 'It's Sam.' Oooh, that line gave me _chills_!" She shivered enthusiastically and grinned even wider. "That just had to be the worst thing to hear. I really couldn't imagine how he could hurt you more. But, then, what d'you know?" she continued. "He came back for you! Even after you hurt him, and even after he said that to you! Isn't Sammy just the greatest?"

"Please stop," I begged, and I buried my face in my knees. "Please. I don't wanna hear any more."

"And then it gets _really _good," the Woman said, ignoring my pleas. "He came down here to _forgive _you! You know that, right? I mean, why else would he come down here after what you did and what he said?"

"Stop it," I mumbled, and a tear leaked out from under my eyelid. I wiped it away before she could see. "Please."

"He was coming down here to take back what he said! To give you a chance to apologize for what you did! He was gonna let you explain yourself!" she said excitedly, a hysterical giggle escaping from her lips at my reaction. "Did you see the look on his face when you said you _deserved_ to be in here? If you'd let him come in, he would've taken you in his arms and held you and told you everything would be okay, just like you always wanted! He'd be in here right now, or at least right outside that door, and he'd be talking to you the whole time! You wouldn't have to deal with this—with any of the hallucinations or the pain or anything because he would've _helped_ you! And, once you got out, the two of you would go back to normal, sickeningly-in-love Gari and Sammy!"

"Shut up! Just _shut up_!" I yelped, and the flames that I'd almost forgotten about flared up once again. I let out a small gasp as the end of the cot caught fire.

"But, instead, you fucked it up," she said as she stepped closer to me. I tried to scoot away, but I couldn't go too far or I would fall off the edge. "You were _so scared _that he was gonna really break it off, _so horrified _at the thought of hearing him tell you it was over, that you broke it off yourself. You ruined your last chance. He's not gonna take you back now. That was the final straw. I bet he's sitting up in Bobby's living room right now, just thinking back on all the time he wasted with _you_."

"_No_!" I shrieked, and I shoved the Woman away from me. "_That's not true_!"

"Oh, but it _is_," she hissed, moving closer again until her face was inches away from mine. "Daddio was right, and you were right to agree: you _do _fuck up everything. You had something _good _here, Garideth! But look at what you've done now! Even _if_ you survive the detox—"

"If?" I echoed fearfully.

"—you'll be alone," the Woman continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "They won't want or trust you after this. You'd be better off dead." She shrugged. "You should just kill yourself and save everyone the trouble of having to deal with you later."

"W—_what_? No!" I protested disbelievingly. "I made it this far without doing that—even if you _did _help me through it—there's no _way _I'm giving up now! Not even if none of them trust me! Not even if they kick me out! If there's even the _slightest _chance that I can fix this mess, I'm gonna take it!"

The Woman was quiet for a moment, and she gazed at me thoughtfully. I thought I saw a little bit of pride in her cold eyes, but I couldn't be sure. _Are my eyes that cold and unfeeling? Am I this frightening when I get mad? She can't really be me on demon blood, can she? I couldn't really become _that_. The blood didn't change me _that _much… did it?_

"You sound pretty set on that decision," she said finally, and dread bubbled in the pit of my stomach at her calculating tone.

"I am," I confirmed, my voice thankfully not shaking.

"Well, alrighty, then. Let's get started." Before I had time to figure out what that meant, she snapped her fingers in my face. My body went rigid, and I was unable to move as she adjusted my position on the cot. I was laying out the way I was when Soulless Sam had tortured me, but I hadn't been cuffed yet, and I didn't know why. "Oh, I don't need the handcuffs," she told me, like she knew what I was thinking. "I'm strong enough to hold you there on my own. Even _with _all of these distractions."

"D—dis—distractions?" I managed to say, though my throat ached with the effort.

"Your screams, of course," she replied offhandedly. She moved her hand in a sweeping gesture, and the fire that now reached the ceiling of the panic room went out, leaving the whole room looking blackened and charred. I increased my struggles to break free of whatever she had done to me, but it was no use. I couldn't move at all.

"W—what—?"

"—am I gonna do to you?" she finished. That smirk stretched over her face again. "You'll see," she said ominously. "Oh, _you'll see_." _Did she really just quote Gollum at me? Oh, this is bad. This is _very _bad. _"The good news: this is the final step. You make it through this, and you're completely healed of any demon-tainted traits. The bad news, well…" She laughed. "You're gonna wish you'd killed yourself."

With that, she ran her index finger down the side of my face, right beside my right eye. "What are you—?" I broke off with a gasp of pain as I felt my skin splitting open. Blood ran down the side of my face and into my hair. "_Shit_!" I cursed, and the Woman laughed. Next, she traced her finger across a spot right under my neck, and another gash appeared. This one hurt worse than the first one, and I bit my lip to stop from crying out. I knew that that was what she wanted.

"You can scream," she told me kindly. "I don't mind. Actually, it's more fun that way. Well, for me, at least."

"N—no," I said stubbornly, and she shrugged.

"You're not really gonna have much of a choice, anyway," she replied casually, and then she moved her finger across my right arm. She ran it down from my elbow to my wrist in a slightly spiraling motion, and I suddenly realized what she was doing.

"You—you're recreating every—"

"—every injury you had on demon blood, yes," she said with a nod. I sucked in my breath sharply as she sliced open my left forearm. "Aren't you a clever girl? Now, see, this is going to get you clean. All of these injuries were healed up so well and so quickly because you were on Vitamin D. So doesn't it make sense that, to get rid of all this tainted blood, you have to bleed it out through everything it fixed?"

I didn't want to admit it, but it made _perfect _sense to me. "But Sam didn't—" I tried, but she cut me off again. _Am I ever gonna be able to finish a sentence?_

"Sam was different," she said. "I know you've thought about that, too. He wasn't in here _near_ as long as you'd been. He never killed a kid. He never had healing abilities. He was always part human, and that part made it easier for him. All he had to do was keep a hold on his humanity." She grinned slyly and continued to cut up my arms. "But you've got no humanity, do you, Garideth? There's no telling _what _you are, really. You're the first—and last—of your kind, and you're giving all of that power up right now."

"It's worth it," I said hoarsely. "It's _all _worth it. All I want is to be normal. If this is how that happens, then so be it. As long as I get clean."

"Don't you get it?" the Woman asked, moving down to my legs. All I could think about at the moment was how grateful I was that I hadn't broken anything while drinking the blood. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop from screaming if she started snapping my legs. "You're never gonna be normal!" she said, jolting me out of my thoughts. "You're always gonna be a freak, a _monster_! Getting clean doesn't change that because you know deep down that the real problem isn't the demon blood or the witchy heritage—it's _you_."

"Alright, alright, fine. We'll move on. Hmmm… What else?" the Woman said to herself. I stared up at her, breathing hard from the effort of not screaming. "We'll save your stomach and the rest of your chest for last… I know there was that werewolf that really fucked you up there… Oh! I know!" she said, her eyes lighting up at her new idea. "You bruised _quite _a few ribs, didn't you?"

My eyes widened. "No—that's not—I didn't bleed then!" I protested weakly. "It was just bruising!"

"Aw, c'mon, Garideth," she said, pushing her bottom lip out in a mock-pout. "It's still something the blood healed! It still counts in my book!" She balled her hands into fists and landed three sharp blows in my right side. I gritted my teeth and let out a low growl. I knew if she'd hit me any harder, my ribs would've cracked."Left side now!" She went around and hit my left side five times, and then threw her fist into my gut.

I coughed loudly as all of the air left my lungs. "W—what was t—_that _for?" I croaked.

"That's for my own comfort," she shrugged.

"D—did you _really _have to quote LotR at me?"

"No, but I _like _doing it. I figured it would annoy you, what with that and the Gollum thing earlier. Seems like I was right!" She frowned suddenly. "Well, I guess all that's left is your stomach," she said sadly. "Where to begin?"

I started struggling again, trying fruitlessly to break free of whatever hold she had on me. She shook her head disappointedly at my futile attempt, and she ran all five fingers of her left hand diagonally across my chest from my clavicle to the bottom of my ribs in a slow, deliberate motion. "No!" I yelped. "_No! N—AH_!"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just wasn't strong enough.

As she shredded my stomach, I screamed louder and longer than I ever had before. I screamed while blood splattered my neck and face and pooled around me, soaking through the cot and leaking onto the floor. I screamed when she paused to wipe the sweat from her brow, and I screamed when she started slicing again. My voice had long since failed me, but I still kept screaming.

I gave up when she finally stopped and wiped her blood-stained hands on her shirt. My throat was unbelievably raw; it felt like someone had shoved a cheese grater down my windpipe and wiggled it around a bit. I wore I could taste blood, but I didn't know if my throat was bleeding or if some blood from my face or chest had gotten into my mouth. Tears ran down my face and into my hair, but I had long since become accustomed to the burn of the salty water in the gash by my eye. Compared to everything else, that was nothing.

The Woman crossed her arms and looked down at her handiwork. "I think that's—Oh, wait, nope!" She clapped her hands together twice. "One more thing!"

"Please…" I mouthed, unable to force out a sound. "Please… stop…"

"But this is the best part!" she assured me happily. She formed her right hand into the shape of a gun and pointed it at my left shoulder.

"No…" I begged, trying my hardest to speak as I realized what was about to happen. "Please…" I had no strength left to struggle—I was barely managing to even stay conscious—and I knew that no amount of struggling would help me, anyway.

"Bang!" she exclaimed, and pain ripped through my shoulder. A fresh round of tears streamed out of my eyes as my mouth opened in a silent cry. "One more time!" she sang. She pretended to cock her finger-gun. "Kapow!" Blood splattered over both of our faces, and she laughed maniacally.

My back arched up off the cot, and one last anguished scream was torn from my shredded vocal chords. I crashed back down onto the cot and lay there, shaking violently as wave after wave of agony shot through my body.

The Woman wiped the blood from her face with her arm, and her tongue darted out to lick the blood from her lips. "Hmmm…" she said thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling and tapping her index finger on her chin again. "Yep, that's it!" she said cheerfully. "You're all squeaky-clean now!" I was too weak to even feel relief at this point, so I just watched her emotionlessly from almost-closed eyes. "It's been fun," she told me. "Not just the torture, but the whole long ride. Even though you were weak, pathetic, and whiny most of the time, I've grown quite fond of you." Her eyes sparkled deviously. "I'm _sure_ you feel the same about me," she said wryly. "Wish I could stick around to see if you live through this—though I doubt it, but I've been wrong before, especially about you—but I gotta jet. Hasta la vista, baby."

She smirked at me one last time, and then she was gone.

I let out a long, shaky breath, and then I was gone, too.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I could just barely hear voices talking off to my left, but I was too out of it to figure out who the voices belonged to.

"Dean," one of the voices said shakily, "t—that's a lot of blood. That's _her _blood." I realized then that the voices must be talking about me. "We should've come down here as soon as we heard her scream like that. I've never heard _anyone _scream like that."

"What's she done to herself?" a second, deeper voice asked, and it seemed to me that its owner was trying to stay calm.

"You—you really think _she _did this?" the first voice asked, sounding horrified.

"I dunno. Who else could've? No one's in there with her."

The voices became quieter, and I wondered why. Then I noticed that my hearing was the problem. It was failing. I was slipping further into unconsciousness. Somehow, I knew that I couldn't let myself pass out again.

Not yet.

_I have to make them stay, _I thought desperately. _I have to get help. I have to get _out_ of here._

"H—_help_," I croaked weakly, my voice grating in my destroyed throat, forcing my eyes open and staring toward the voices. Something warm, red, and sticky flowed into my right eye, but I kept it open despite the irritation. Wide, frightened, hazel eyes stared back at me through the grate in the door. _Sam_. "_Sam_," I choked out, stretching my fingers toward him, "_please_."

His eyes disappeared from view, and I heard him say, "Dean, we can't just _leave _her in there! She could die!"

"What if she's just tryin' to get out?" Dean asked unsurely. "What if she's faking?"

"No one could fake that!" Sam argued. "This is _Gari _we're talking about! She wouldn't do that!" His eyes suddenly appeared in the grate again. "She's clean," he said, and a small part of me rejoiced at how quickly he'd figured it out. The other part of me was just focusing on staying awake long enough to see if he'd come get me. "I'm sure of it. It's like the fits I had. This is the blood's way of fighting back."

"What if you're wrong, Sammy? What if she _is _faking?"

"_Please_," I breathed, and tears streamed down my face as my hand fell limply off the cot. I couldn't feel pain anymore. I was completely numb, and I knew that couldn't be a good thing.

"I'm not letting her die," Sam said stubbornly, and the door creaked open. My eyes fluttered closed as he walked toward me. I was faintly aware of being lifted off the cot by a pair of strong arms, and I subconsciously curled into Sam's broad chest. "It's okay, I've got you," I heard him say; then everything went black.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

My body was completely numb, and I felt _clean_—not like just-out-of-the-shower clean, though I felt that, too—but like all of the demon blood was out of my system, like it had never been there in the first place. When I opened my eyes, I saw only white. _What the fuck? Am I dead? Is this Heaven?_ I let out a sharp, strangled laugh. _Yeah, right. Heaven. _

"Oh, good, you're awake," an unfamiliar male voice said.

I jumped slightly, looking around for the voice. _And that'll be God, right? The bastard. _"Where am I?" I asked, wincing as my voice cracked painfully.

"Sioux Falls General Hospital," the man answered. "You've been out for a few days. You were half-dead when that young man brought you here. He's barely left your room since—"

"_What_?" I asked sharply, not even paying attention to the last few things he said. _Oh, God, why can't it be Heaven? Or even Hell? Anywhere but a fucking hospital!_ I sat up quickly and let out a gasp as something pulled on my stomach. "_Fuck_!" I yelped.

"Ms. Ford, please!" the man said worriedly, and I finally saw him. _Oh, great. A doctor. _"You'll pull your stitches!"

"_Stitches_? What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" I yelled, ignoring the pain it caused me. "I don't need _stitches_! You're fucking _crazy_!" I flipped the crisp white sheet off me and started to get up.

"You _really _need to get back in bed!" the doctor ordered frantically.

I narrowed my eyes at him and snapped, "Listen, doc, no offense, and thanks for the morphine or whatever, but I don't _need _stitches, I've _never _needed stitches, and I'm getting the fuck _outta _here! And if I have to go through you to do that, believe me—_I will_!"

The doctor looked taken aback and more than a little scared, but he didn't give up. "Ms. Ford, I can't let—!"

I slid off the side of the bed and let out a loud cry. I fell to my knees, clutching my stomach, and I let out a string of profanities that made the good doctor blush like a little school girl.

Suddenly, the door opened and Sam walked in. I'd never been so happy to see someone in my life, even if he quite possibly hated me at the moment. "Gari, what are you—?"

"Don't you say one more goddamn word, Sam Winchester!" I interrupted fiercely, attempting to get back to my feet. "You get me outta here _right now_!"

He came over and helped me up. I clutched onto his arm and winced as that weird pain started in my stomach again. "Maybe this isn't the best idea…" he said gently. "You're still not all the way healed, and—"

"God_damnit_!" I exclaimed furiously, jerking away from him and stumbling slightly. "_Fine_! You don't wanna get me outta here, I'll get out my…" I trailed off as black spots appeared in my vision and the room started spinning. There was a loud roaring in my ears, and I saw Sam moving quickly toward me. "Oh, _fuck_," I hissed, and I crumpled to the ground.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

When I woke up, I realized I was lying on a creaky, familiar bed. _I'm home, _I thought happily. My eyes fluttered open slowly, and I let out a groan as I was slammed with a throbbing sensation that covered my entire body. "Ugh." I saw Sam standing near the door, and I asked, "What happened?"

"You strained yourself too much," he said.

"Care to explain? Have a seat," I offered, gesturing to the foot of the bed.

"You pulled your stitches," he replied flatly, stubbornly refusing to move from the doorframe. I opened my mouth angrily, but he cut in before I could say anything. "After all that happened to you… down there… yeah, you _did _need stitches. See for yourself."

I rolled my eyes and pulled the hospital gown up enough to expose my stomach. My entire abdomen was covered in stitched-up gashes, and the biggest one looked like it had been bleeding recently. "Well, what d'you know," I mumbled to myself. "The doc was telling the truth."

"How d'you feel?" he asked, and I frowned at the lack of emotion in his voice.

"Like I got shredded by the human personification of the demon-blood-induced voice in my head," I deadpanned.

His eyes widened slightly. "Wait, _what_?"

"Eh, long story," I said offhandedly. "'Ms. Ford, huh? Lita, I'm guessing?"

He nodded. "I figured you'd appreciate it."

"I do—nice job." I looked around the room and noticed about five or six empty coffee cups on the bedside table. I glanced back at Sam, and he shifted uncomfortably. "How long have I been out?" I asked.

"About two weeks. You woke up a few times, but you were too out of it to do anything other than groan. We've been giving you your medication since you wouldn't let us keep you in the hospital. The doctor was all too happy to be rid of you." A small smile started to stretch over his face, but he quickly masked it.

I chewed on my lip nervously and stared down at the old comforter. "Sam, can we talk?" I asked quietly. "Y'know, about what I said to you?"

He looked away for a minute, then looked back at me and said, "You know I was coming to forgive you, right?"

I nodded. "I know."

"But I dunno what to do now."

"I know," I repeated.

"I think…" He swallowed deeply, a pained expression on his face that I could see even through the shadows of the room. "I think I'm gonna need some time," he murmured. "After all that—well, I mean, I think we _both _need some time to figure out what's going on here."

"We could figure it out together!" I said desperately, just wishing that everything could go back to how it used to be.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know you anymore, Garideth. You changed _so much _when I was gone—you're not my—you're not Gari."

"I _am_!" I cried, tears springing to my eyes. "Sammy, please, I—" I stopped myself and said, "I'm sorry. Force of habit."

He nodded. "I'm not saying it's all your fault—I remember how bad I was without Dean—but you made the _exact _same mistakes that I did. You hid it from all of us, from _me_—I could've helped you, Gari!" he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It didn't have to get this bad."

"I know, I'm sorry, I…" I trailed off and gazed at him sadly. "I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" I whispered.

"I don't know," he answered, sounding truly confused. "I just don't know."

"Don't give up on me yet," I pleaded. "You can't give up on me yet. You _loved _me once, Sam. And I still love you so much it hurts. That's never gonna change. Please tell me it hasn't changed for you, either."

He stepped out of the shadows, and I was surprised and horrified to see that those beautiful hazel eyes had a distinctly misty quality to them. _I don't wanna hurt him like this. I don't wanna make him cry. How could I do this to him? _

"I still love Gari," he said thickly. "When you find her, let me know."

With that, he walked away, and I stared after him, completely lost, as my world crumbled down around me.

**5,621.**

**This is the shortest one I've written in a while. It's given me so many issues! Ugh! I'm so glad it's over!**

**The next chapter, however, will take place in "…And Then There Were None," so it will be longer. And for those of you who know what that episode is as soon as you read the title… well, I'll apologize in advance.**

**As always, I'll check over it later.**

**Anywayyy… I think I'm gonna go and watch the new episode now! (JUST THIS, AND THE NEXT IS THE FINALE. HOLY FUCK. I HAVE FEELS.)**

**Review it, lovelies!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


	22. There Is Nothing Left Inside

**I'm not talking about the finale until my next update. I figured that'll give all of you late watchers some time to catch up before I rant.**

**But I ****_am_**** going to comment on the previous episode, "Clip Show." Y'know, the one I was so excited about because of Sarah Blake? Well, yeah, that's now my least favorite episode EVER. Like, of any season. I mean, Jenny was one thing. Tommy was pushing it. But SARAH?! WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT IS NOT OKAY. Ugh, and, see, the sad part is that HeadStuckInTheClouds and I predicted it. We were both like, "Oooh, as soon as she started talking about her life, I knew she was gonna die." And it's true. BUT SHE HAD A HUSBAND AND A ONE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER. AND NOW SHE IS DEAD. NOPE. NOT OKAY. **

**Anyway, this is the first half of "…And Then There Were None." At the beginning, there's quite a bunch of talking and stuff that has nothing to do with the episode whatsoever and is the reason why I had to split it into two chapters (it would have been over 9,000 words had I kept it one chapter). There's not a whole huge bunch of Sam/Gari interaction here, and you all know why, but there's a Dean/Gari thing that I'm quite proud of, and I was grinning the whole time I wrote it.**

**Okay, okay. ENJOY.**

I winced slightly as I slid out of my bed. I'd been laid up for a month, including those two weeks after my little stint at the hospital and the drama with Sam, and I was restless as hell. I knew the boys couldn't be too happy about doing nothing for so long, either, and I hated to think that I was such a burden to them. _Especially after what I just put them through. Not only did they have to detox me—now they're waiting around on me to get better. _

I rummaged through my duffle bag and found a pair of almost-clean jeans and an old Zeppelin tee, then grabbed some clean underwear and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. After barely moving for so long, I was ready to get cleaned up and go hunt something, even if it was just a simple spirit.

When I took off my shirt, I let out a small gasp of shock. _That's gonna leave a bunch of scarring, _I thought agitatedly as I lightly trailed my fingers over the longest wound. The only scar I'd had on my body before my detox was the one from my first wendigo, and that one was because I'd been stupid and almost gotten used as stored food. It was the worst injury I'd ever had, and I could still remember Greg and Ella's panic when they found me.

That was actually my first time hospitalized on a hunt, and I had been stuck there for _weeks_. Before that, I'd been in the hospital a few times when Dad had gotten… overzealous in his little outbursts.

So, yeah, I used those few times as support of my hatred of hospitals.

A week earlier, Dean had to take me back to Sioux Falls General to get the sutures removed from all the gashes on my stomach. When I walked back in that room, I thought the doctor was going to wet himself. Dean didn't get what was so funny.

But now, I was stuck with a demolished abdomen, fucked up arms and legs, an awkward shoulder, and a marred face. I hate to say it because it makes me seem vain and shallow and all that high school prom queen stuff, but I'd never felt uglier in my whole life, and I really didn't like that.

Though I had to admit the scar on my face looked _so _badass.

Anyway, once I finished despairing over my destroyed body and took a nice, relaxing shower, I went downstairs to find the boys and Bobby discussing a case. I got there just in time to hear Dean calling whatever the case was a "Sherman March Monster Mash."

"I'm proud of you, Deano," I said wryly as I walked into the room. He spun around and cocked his eyebrow at me. "You actually _did _learn something in school."

A reluctant grin spread across his face as he said, "Shut up!" I smiled back at him. "How ya feelin'?" he asked, looking me up and down. "You look like you're moving okay."

"Yeah, I still feel a little stiff, and my shoulder is a bit wonky," I told him as I rotated said shoulder in a circle, "but I'm definitely feeling better."

"I'm digging the facial scar," he teased. "Makes you look tough."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Yeah, I thought so, too."

"Glad to see ya up and movin'," Bobby said as I walked up to his desk. "Ya had me worried sick, there, kid."

"I know, old man. Won't happen again." I snuck a glance out of the corner of my eye at Sam, and he glanced at me at the same time. We both looked away from each other, but, when I turned back to Bobby, I could still feel him looking at me.

"Yeah, it better not," Bobby said gruffly.

I gave him a small half-smile and stared down at the map on the desk. "So what's going on?" I asked. "Where's the 'Sherman March Monster Mash' marching to?"

Bobby circled a spot on the map at the end of a long line of red circles. "What is it?" Sam asked.

"Guy bashes in his family's heads," the older hunter said. "Sandusky, Ohio."

"Okay, well, let's get packed up and get going," I said happily, excited to get out of the house and actually _do _something. I felt Sam staring at me again, and I saw him open his mouth to object out of the corner of my eye. I turned to him with my arms crossed. "Don't you _dare_ suggest that I stay here," I snapped. "I'm perfectly fucking fine. I've been resting for a whole goddamn _month_, and I am ready to kick ass."

"Gari—" he started, but I cut him off.

"What, Sam? Are you _really _gonna try to tell me to sit this out? Dean started right back hunting when he got outta Hell, and you started right back hunting when you got your soul back. All I did was go through a detox and get a little scraped up, so I really don't see how—"

"'_A little scraped up_?'" he repeated incredulously. "You were _bleeding out_! You had stitches _everywhere_, including in your _face_! So why the _hell_ d'you think I'd let you go?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Well, if you remember," I said coldly, "you gave up the right to decide what the fuck I do two weeks ago."

His anger immediately faded, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Fine," he said quietly as he turned away from me. "Let's just go."

I exhaled deeply through my nose and closed my eyes. _Fuck. That is _not _how I wanted that conversation to go. But what am I supposed to do? He can't just tell me to stay here and expect me to do it! Even if he _hadn't _said those things to me, even if we _were_ still together, what the fuck makes him think that I'd sit this out?_

"You okay?" Dean asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I blinked rapidly to clear my head. "Yeah, I'm fine," I replied shortly. "You heard the moose. Let's just go." I quickly walked away from the older Winchester, knowing that, if I stayed back, he'd start asking me what happened. I could tell by the looks he gave his brother that Sam hadn't said anything to him yet, so I knew that I'd be interrogated as soon as he got the chance. _Okay, so now I have to avoid _both _brothers. Fan-fucking-tastic._

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"So how ya doin', kid?" Bobby asked as we followed the boys down the road.

I frowned. "You're gonna have to be more specific, old man."

He gave me a sharp glance and said, "Well, you're walkin' and talkin' just fine, so what d'ya think I'm talkin' about?"

I dropped my head back against the headrest and sighed. "Bobby…" I protested weakly.

"You're stuck in a car with me for six more hours," he reminded me. "Ya better start talkin' now. I gotta be the grown up here and look after all three of ya, so ya better tell me what's goin' on."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you're the grown up," I teased, trying to shift the focus.

He turned to glare at me. "Start talkin'," he repeated.

"Damnit, Bobby," I whined. "I don't wanna start talking relationship drama with you, especially when it involves one of your boys! You'll side with Sam every time!"

"Only if he's right."

"But he is," I said softly.

"Kid, you better tell me what's goin' on with you two," he pressed, but his tone was gentler than before.

I sighed again. "We're over," I said simply.

"Ya wanna explain a little more?"

"C'mon, Bobby; it's not like you don't know the whole story."

"I know ya shoved Sam and pissed both boys off, and I know you two ain't talkin' anymore." He shrugged. "That's all I got."

"Well, yeah, that's pretty much it," I lied.

"Bullshit. No way Sam would push ya away that quick." He looked at me expectantly. "What else?"

"Fine. The second time he came down there, I was going just a bit insane," I said. "And by 'a bit insane,' I mean 'totally batshit crazy.' When I finally calmed down enough—and once I realized it was really Sam—I wouldn't let him get a single word in, and I ended it because, really, how the fuck could he take me back after all of that?"

"This _is _Sam we're talkin' about," Bobby said. "If anyone could take ya back after that, it's him."

"See, I was too stupid to realize that. So, after you guys got me out of the hospital, he was there when I woke up back in my bed. And he said he'd been coming to forgive me before, and I told him I knew that, but I messed it up because I'm an idiot, and he said I'm not me anymore, and I think he might be right because I wouldn't do all of those things that I did on demon blood because I'm _not _a bad person, no matter what's happened to me and no matter what sort of creature I am, and he was the only one who really knew how that felt, and I took that for granted instead of just telling him the truth from the beginning, and—" I stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. "And now it's over."

We rode in silence for about five minutes before Bobby said, "I don't even know why I asked. How am I s'posed to give ya advice for that? I've never had to deal with somethin' that messed up, and it's not like I had some picture-perfect marriage."

I gave him a small smile. "Hey, it's okay. It, uh, it actually felt good to ramble about it."

"Glad I could help," the older hunter said jokingly; then he suddenly got serious. "But, again, this is Sam we're talkin' about. Just give him time. Be nice, if ya can manage that, and just be there. I dunno why, but I got this feelin' that things are gonna get bad soon, and we're all gonna need all the help we can get. So keep him close, alright?"

"That was pretty deep, old man," I said with a slightly mocking tone, though his words troubled me.

"Shut up," he snapped half-heartedly.

I grinned absentmindedly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Bobby was hitting pretty close to home. Something bad was going to happen soon—whether it was in five days or five months—and I had the strangest sense that not all of us would make it through.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"So, demon possession or ghosts?" Dean asked, keeping his voice low and glancing around the police station to make sure we weren't overheard. "I thought this was a monster thing."

Sam continued typing on the office computer for a minute, then found the footage we were looking for. "Alright, here we go," he said, sliding his chair back to let us see the screen. "Truck stop, night of the murders."

A red truck pulled up to the gas tank, and the man who supposedly murdered his family got out. "That's him," Dean said. A young woman walked up to the man. "Hmmm, hello." I slapped Dean's arm, and he grinned cheekily at me. We both looked back at the screen just in time to see the camera mess up over the woman's face, exposing a grotesque, deformed image. "Freakish nightmare!" Dean exclaimed, jumping back in alarm.

"What the fuck is _that_?" I yelped.

"Bobby?" Sam asked, looking to the older hunter for suggestions.

"I've never seen that in my life," Bobby said, shaking his head. "All those vamps and ghouls out on I-80—maybe they're comin' in for Mother's Day."

"Um... Okay," Dean said. "Well, if that_ is_ Big Mama—whatever she is, we got zero on ganking her. So what are we gonna do if we run into her? Throw salt and hope?"

Bobby raised his eyebrows, fixing Dean with the glare he reserved for so-called idjits. "No, we're gonna turn tail and run because we're in over our heads!" he snapped.

"Well, then, how the hell are we supposed to wrap this case up?" I asked. "If she's behind this, we're pretty screwed."

Just then, a police officer ran by us to the door, looking worried. "Hey, let's go!"

Bobby stepped up to the man. "What's the ruckus?"

"Guy just went postal down at the Cannery."

Bobby turned around to face us. "Okay, I'll go," he nodded. "You finish here."

"I'll go with you," I said, making to follow him. I _really _didn't feel like being left behind with the boys. Sam would end up ignoring me the whole time, and Dean would end up interrogating me.

"Actually, Gari, I'd kinda like you to stay here," Dean said from behind me. _Fuck._

I looked at Bobby pleadingly, but he shook his head. "Yeah, why not?" he said. "I got this one."

"But—" I started, but he was already gone. "Damnit."

Dean gave me a look that let me know he'd be questioning me soon, but all he did was walk back over to the computer and sit beside Sam. "What are you doing?" he asked his brother.

"New guy worked at the Cannery, right?" Sam said, glancing briefly at Dean. "Just like Rick? I'm checking to see if anything weird's happened down there lately."

"You mean _besides _this new guy going postal?"

Sam fixed Dean with his best bitch-face. "Yeah. Besides that." Dean fell silent after he couldn't think of something smart to say back to that, and Sam smirked triumphantly and looked back at the computer.

After that little brotherly interaction, you'd think the tension in the room was relieved, but _no_. Sam was still trying his best to ignore the fact that I was even there, made obvious by the way he was staring at the computer with abnormally intense concentration—plus his fingers hadn't swept over the keyboard in at least five minutes. Dean, on the other hand, was staring straight at me with those piercing green eyes of his, and I crossed my arms and bit my lip as I shifted awkwardly on my feet in response to that glare.

_Ugh, I can't take this anymore. _"I'm gonna see if they have a drink machine," I said, heading for the door.

"There's one right—"

I slammed the door behind me before Dean could finish his sentence. I made my way over to the Impala and got onto the hood, then slid back until I could rest against the windshield. I figured Dean couldn't get mad at me for that since he and Sam did it all the time, and both of them were bigger than I was.

_How am I supposed to deal with this? _I wondered. _I can't go off on my own again, but being around Sam all the time is gonna be _so _awkward… and painful. _I sighed. _I know, I know, I'm whiny and pathetic. But you could still help me out here._

I waited impatiently for the Woman's snarky reply, but there was only silence.

_Oh,_ I thought, suddenly remembering why she wasn't answering. _You're not there anymore._

Something about that made me sad. I never liked the Woman while she was there, but, now that she was gone, I felt… lonely.

Just then, the station door opened and Dean walked out. He looked around for a minute, and he frowned slightly when he saw me. "You better not scratch her," he said as he approached me.

"If you and Sam can get on her at the same time, I'm pretty sure I won't hurt her," I replied.

He shrugged, acknowledging my point. "So let's talk."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Y'know, for someone who says 'no chick flick moments' is one of his main rules, you sure do instigate a lot of them."

"I—that's not—you—" he spluttered indignantly. "Shut up!"

I grinned slightly. "Ha, you're angry 'cause it's true."

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "Gari, as my best friend, do me a favor, and don't antagonize me anymore."

"Alright, _fine_," I relented. I thought about what he said, and I gave him a strange look. "Did you just call me your best friend?" I asked suspiciously, my grin growing slowly.

His eyes widened in embarrassment. "What? No!" I wiggled my eyebrows at him. "Shut up!" he repeated.

I laughed and said, "Can you believe that, two years ago, we hated each other?"

"You threatened me _how_ many times?" he said, sounding nostalgic.

"And you called me inferior _how_ many times?" I shot back.

"Hey, everyone knows the Winchesters are the best hunters around," he defended cockily.

"Yeah, if by 'everyone,' you mean you."

"Eh, me, everyone—really, I don't see the difference."

"You're such an arrogant, self-centered dick," I joked.

"And you're such a bitch," he replied easily.

He leaned back against the windshield beside me, and I bumped his arm playfully. "And now we're _best fwiends_," I teased, laughing at the annoyance on his face.

"Yeah, you're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Nope."

He shook his head in amusement and said, "Man, I should've thought of somethin' better than that. I use that too much."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Better than what?"

"Better than bitch."

"Yeah, it _is_ quite unoriginal," I agreed.

"Shut up; I didn't ask you."

"No, but I'm telling you anyway."

His grin faded slowly as he turned away from me. He glared at the police station as if it had wronged him in some terrible way, and I dreaded what I knew was coming. "So, really, what happened?" he asked.

"Nuh-uh." I shook my head stubbornly. "I've already discussed this with Bobby. It's Sam's turn to talk about it. He's usually all for talking it out; I'm sure you won't have to push too hard."

He sighed and grumbled out something that sounded like, "I already have." He looked at me pleadingly. "C'mon, Gari. Looks like I gotta play matchmaker here and fix the first real, healthy relationship my brother's had since Jess. I can't do that if neither of you tell me what the hell's going on."

I smiled against my will, but I shook my head again regardless. "I'm not talking about it, Dean. Ask Sam." I leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And, y'know, between you and me, your puppy eyes are almost as good as his. It just might work on him."

He fixed me with a mock-pout. "But not on you?" he asked in a fake childish voice.

I laughed lightly. "Nope, not on me. Apparently, not even Sam's work on me now."

"You heartless creature!" Dean accused teasingly.

"Damn straight," I nodded, and we sank into a small silence again.

"Okay, fine," he said at last. "I'll ask Sam about that."

"Thanks."

"Uh-huh. But you gotta tell me what happened to you in the panic room."

I gave him a disbelieving glare. "You're fucking kidding, right?"

"Not all of it!" he backtracked quickly. "Not the hallucinations or anything. Just what happened to you… physically. Sam—"

"Didn't do that," I finished. "Yeah, I know."

"So why'd _you_ do it?"

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. "You remember how Sam had fits like right before he got clean?" I said finally, and he nodded. "Well, it's like that. The fits were Sam's body's sign that the blood was out of his system. What happened to me… well, it's the same thing."

"But they're _real_," Dean said confusedly. "I mean, you were bleeding out, and you have scars and everything, and the panic room was covered in blood and ashes, which I'd also like to ask you about, by the way."

"Well, uh, all of the cuts and gashes and everything…" I trailed off, unsure of how to continue. I didn't know if I should tell him about the Woman or just make it sound like it happened on its own—which, I guess it kind of did, since the Woman was never real. I supposed she was just a way for my brain to make me freak out slightly less—or more, depending on your point of view. I really couldn't decide if I'd have been more terrified if the gashes had suddenly appeared on their own, or if it was scarier having the voice in my head appear to give them to me.

"All the injuries I have now are things that happened to me while I was drinking the demon blood," I told Dean, having made up my mind. "I was already a fast healer, but the blood made me even faster. If it was a small wound, like the cut by my eye, it healed up in five minutes, tops. But, if it was bigger, like the gunshot wound… it took a bit longer. The gunshot wound took about an hour to heal, and that still wasn't the worst."

Dean frowned, and I could tell this was doing more than just confusing him—it was making him uncomfortable to realize just how off the reservation I had been, how _inhuman _I'd become. "What was the worst?" he asked quietly.

My hand subconsciously went to my stomach as I said, "A month or so after I started drinking, I ran into a werewolf. And, man, this dude was _big_. I almost died right then and there, but I'd dosed up right before I went after him, so I was a hell of a lot stronger than usual. Still, it took me longer than I was comfortable with to kill the son of a bitch, and afterwards, I somehow managed to get back to my hotel room—I'm still kinda hazy on that; I blame it on the blood loss—and I was laid up for a day waiting for everything to heal. That's the longest it's ever taken me to heal up while drinking."

"What about the ashes?"

I could tell he was trying to change the subject, but I didn't mind. It wasn't really fun for me to talk about, either. "Eh, just another part of the detox," I said with a shrug. "I burned the shit out of my leg, though, and, _of course_, that didn't heal up. Guess it was my powers fighting back or something."

"Do you still have your powers?" Dean asked. "I mean, the ones you had _before _you started drinking. Y'know, with the weird weather and the demon-killing and healing other people instead of yourself."

I shook my head slowly. "I dunno. I haven't tried anything yet. The situation hasn't really called for it, seeing as this is my first time out of Bobby's house since it happened. And… and I'm scared," I admitted softly. "My powers, dangerous and uncontrollable as they may be, have always been a part of me. I don't know what I'm gonna do without them. I just… I feel empty, Dean, and I don't like it."

He hesitantly wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry; we'll figure this out," he promised.

I bit my lip and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "D'you still think I'm… me?" I asked nervously.

He frowned in confusion. "Yeah, you're Gari, right?" He raised his eyebrows. "Or is this some secret girl code question that I'm not supposed to understand?"

I smiled fondly at him. "No, it's nothing." I looked at his hand on my shoulder, then looked back at him. "See, there you go again with the chick flick moments," I said, and he quickly jerked his arm away with an indignant grunt. "It's okay, _best friend_, I won't tell anyone about our moment." I slid off the hood of the car and backed away. "At least, no one but Ella…"

"Gari…" Dean said warningly, sliding off the car as well.

"And Bobby…"

"I mean it, Gari!"

"And Dev and Jess and Emily…"

"Garideth Vulcan, I swear to God, I—"

The door opened behind me, and I spun around to stare up at Sam. I blushed and took a few steps backward, thankfully not running into anything. "Bobby called," the younger Winchester said, looking over my head at his brother. "He ran into an old friend down at the Cannery. He wants us to meet him there."

Dean and I shared a look, and he grinned at me like I'd just told some hilarious joke. I couldn't help but feel happy right then. _Sam may not think I'm me anymore, but at least Dean still knows who I am. At least he still cares._

_…He called me his best friend! Ha! No chick flick moments—yeah, right!_

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"I don't even know why ya have a driver's license," I heard a gruff, familiar voice say, and I knew who it was before he even got out of the car. A tall black man of about Bobby's age got to his feet, and I couldn't help but smile.

I hung back, waiting for the boys to say hello, and Dean said, "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

Sam shook Rufus Turner's hand and grinned. "It really is good to see you, Rufus."

"I can believe it," Rufus said. "Must get old dealing with this miserable cuss here all by yourself."

"Is it that obvious?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Why don't you three get a room?"

I stepped forward at that moment. As soon as Rufus's eyes met mine, a spark of recognition flashed in them, and he grinned. "Rufus Turner," I said with a grin of my own. "Long time, no see."

"Lookin' good, Gari. Nice to see your ego hasn't got ya killed yet," Rufus said appreciatively.

"You two know each other?" Bobby asked, sounding mildly surprised.

"Rufus saved my life a while back," I explained. "Without him, my first wendigo would've been my last."

"I never seen someone so ready to take on a monster," Rufus laughed. "Speakin' of, how'd that scratch heal up?"

I pulled down the neck of my shirt, exposing half of the long, ugly scar yet effectively keeping the new ones hidden. I felt Sam staring at me, and I met his eyes for the briefest moment. I wondered if he was having the same little flashback I had, a flashback of our first time together, of talk of family and curses and scars and tattoos.

I shook my head and focused back on Rufus, hoping no one had noticed that. "Permanent reminder of how stupid and reckless I was," I said, once more falling into the easy, joking persona I used whenever I was uncomfortable. I could still feel Sam staring at me, and I knew that he would've noticed how I zoned out and then acted like nothing was wrong.

"_Was_?" Rufus echoed. "Now don't tell me you lost your touch!"

"What, are you kidding?" I replied, seemingly offended. "I'm a well-seasoned, respectable hunter now—'careful' is my middle name!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll believe _that _when I see it." He chuckled a little, then asked, "Now where's Ella? From what I recall, you two were a package deal."

"She's at her house, taking care of her kids," I told him, suppressing a smile as I waited for his reaction.

"_Kids_?" he exclaimed. "Who knocked her up?"

"This dumbass right here!" I clapped Dean on the shoulder, my grin widening as he gave me a _very _annoyed look.

"I shoulda known," Rufus said, shaking his head at Dean. "Just can't keep it in your pants, can ya, boy?"

I stifled a laugh at the look on the older Winchester's face, but when both Sam and Bobby let out strained chuckles, I lost it.

"Ya done?" Dean said irritably when I began to calm down.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied breathlessly as I wiped my eyes.

"So're we gonna do this or what?" he asked, and I let out an accidental giggle at his annoyance. He glared at me, but I could see the amusement in his eyes. "Alright, we all pack a snack?"

"Yeah," Sam said, pulling his pistol out of his waistband.

Dean did the same and said, "Let's see what we can see."

He led the way into the cannery, and I brought up the rear, occasionally turning around to check behind us. The lower level of the building was completely empty, so the five of us piled on a lift and went up to the second floor.

Just when I was about ready to call it and say that the place was deserted, there was a clanking sound up ahead. I glanced at Dean, and we took off toward the noise.

A door swung open in front of us, and a small, dark-haired woman stepped out, throwing her hands up in alarm as she noticed that all of our guns were pointed at her. Dean lowered his gun and stared at the woman confusedly. "Gwen?"

Gwen physically relaxed and regarded us with a wary expression. "Dean." Then my least favorite person in the world appeared behind her.

Big Daddy Campbell was on the other side of the door behind Gwen, and, as soon as he saw us, he drew his gun.

Dean clenched his jaw and busted through the doors, cocking his pistol and pointing it at Samuel. "Welcome to next time," he snarled.

Sam rushed forward and grabbed his arm. "No, no, no, no! Hold on!"

"I said I'd kill him!"

"I second that notion," I added helpfully.

"Look, just a second," Sam argued.

Rufus raised his eyebrows. "I take it you know each other."

"He's our grandfather," Dean said unhappily.

"Ooh. Somebody needs a hug."

Bobby turned to Samuel, looking pissed and territorial. "Why are you here?" he asked gruffly.

"We're working," Samuel replied just as rudely. "You?"

"None of your damn business!" Dean growled.

"Sam," Bobby said slowly, never taking his eyes off Samuel. "Take Dean for a walk."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You gotta be kidding me!"

Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and led him toward the door. "Look, Dean, it's fine."

"How?" I could sense the argument about to start between the brothers, and I realized I actually preferred being face-to-face with Samuel than being in the middle of another Winchester throw-down.

We all waited and tried to ignore the sound of Dean yelling at Sam, and I could just imagine Sam giving him that _look_, the look that meant he was trying his best to be patient and keep everyone calm. Finally, Sam walked back in the room, and I saw Dean pacing back and forth outside.

"So..." Bobby started, turning to Big Daddy Campbell. "You're Samuel."

Samuel narrowed his eyes. "You must be the guy pretending to be their father."

Bobby frowned, looking angrier than I'd ever seen him. With a surprising amount of self-control, he said, "Well, somebody oughta."

Samuel huffed and turned his eyes on me. "Witch," he said shortly.

"That's _demon _witch to you, Big Daddy," I snapped, and I crossed my arms defensively over my chest and glowered up at the douchey cue ball of a man. Samuel moved forward and balled up his right fist, as if he were about to swing at me, but Sam swiftly stepped in front of me, and Samuel regained control of himself.

I glanced at Sam and noticed the furious, over-protective look on his face that he always had when I was in danger. I rolled my eyes at the old-fashioned sentiment, but I couldn't help but rejoice a little at the fact that he still felt some sort of attachment to me.

This little interaction didn't go unnoticed by Samuel, but he seemed to decide that it wasn't important. He raised his eyebrows at his grandson and said, "Sam. You're looking well."

"Save the small talk, alright?" Sam said tersely.

Samuel narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, taking in the way that Sam was still planted firmly in between him and me. "You seem different."

"I got my soul back. No thanks to you, I hear."

"You hear?" Samuel echoed, sounding confused, but realization soon crossed his face. "You don't remember," he said wonderingly.

Sam regarded him coldly, clenching his jaw and glaring at his grandfather. "I remember enough."

At that moment, Rufus stepped forward. "I, uh, really hate to break up this little circle of love," he said scathingly, "but why don't we talk shop, huh? How 'bout you tell us what it is you're hunting?"

Samuel reluctantly looked away from Sam and focused on Rufus. "A creature from Purgatory. She calls herself Eve."

Deciding that Samuel was no longer a threat, Sam relaxed slightly and asked, "Eve?"

"Yep. They call her 'Mother.' She was here about 10,000 years ago. Every freak that walks the face of the earth can be traced back to her. And she's back," Samuel finished, looking quite proud of himself.

"How the hell d'you know all that?" Bobby asked.

"You don't know half the things that I know, kid," Samuel said smugly. "Hell, until recently, you didn't even know about us."

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "I now know that you'd throw your own kin to hungry ghouls," he retorted. "I think I know enough."

Gwen piped up at that moment, looking utterly devastated and incredulous. "You _what_?"

A bit of panic flashed in Samuel's eyes as he quickly said, "Dean lied to the man."

Bobby smirked slightly. "How 'bout ya ask Dean?" he suggested to Gwen.

She looked between Bobby and Samuel confusedly. "Good idea…" she said slowly, and she turned and walked out of the room.

"So're we workin' together on this, then?" Bobby asked. When no one answered, he said, "That was a general question. Feel free to pipe up anytime."

I bit my lip and stared warily at Samuel as Sam said, "Not like we have a choice, is it? We're all here. Might as well make the most of it and track this thing down before anyone else gets hurt."

"You really are different with a soul," Samuel said. "The things you did without one… Son, you scared the—"

Just then, a gunshot sounded out from nearby. Sam and I shared a brief, panicked glance, and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing: _Dean_.

We rushed out into the hall to find Gwen lying on the ground with a bullet in her chest. "Oh, God, Gwen," I breathed, dropping down beside her. I checked for her pulse and gave a small sigh of relief when I felt it. It was weak, but it was there.

"See if you can plug that hole up, Bobby," I heard Rufus say, and I felt Bobby drop down beside me.

"Think ya can fix her?" he asked.

"Should be no problem," I replied. I placed both hands over the bullet wound and closed my eyes, focusing all of my willpower on healing up the hole.

"Nothin's happenin', kid," Bobby said worriedly.

I ignored him and screwed up my face in concentration, but Bobby was right—nothing was happening. Gwen was still bleeding to death from a hole in her chest, and I was still straining myself to try to heal her, but absolutely nothing was happening. I couldn't feel any power rushing through me; I couldn't feel that light, tingling sensation that accompanied the miracle of healing someone; I couldn't feel anything but _emptiness_.

I was powerless.

No, more than that: I was helpless. Completely and utterly helpless.

My eyes popped open and tears prickled in the corners. "I—I can't—nothing's happening!" I yelped, looking to Bobby for answers. "She's dying!"

Bobby looked up sharply. "Rufus, get your ass over here and help me out!" Rufus did as he said and knelt down beside us. He immediately started performing CPR, but still nothing happened. Bobby looked at me worriedly. "What's goin' on?" he asked quietly.

"I—I dunno; I don't feel anything working!" I cried desperately. "I couldn't make it work! I did it just the same as I always have, and it didn't work!" I stared back at Gwen and muttered, "Why couldn't I make it work?"

Bobby's hands grasped my shoulders, and he gently pushed me away so he could help Rufus. "Just calm down, kid. It's fine," he assured me.

"C'mon, girl!" Rufus kept repeating as he continued to perform CPR on Gwen, but she wasn't responding. "C'mon! C'mon! _C'mon_!"

"She's gone," Bobby said sadly, and Rufus rocked back onto his heels and sighed in defeat.

Gwen's lifeless eyes gazed up at me, and I found that I couldn't make myself look away. _She's dead. Gwen's dead. I couldn't save her. _Why_ couldn't I save her?_

_What's _happening_ to me?_

**6,173.**

**Okay, yeah, cliffhanger. Sorta. Like most of my cliffhangers, if you've seen the episode, you know what happens next. (And, in the case of this episode, what happens next is worse.)**

**So, over the next few chapters, I do plan on going more into the Dean/Gari relationship while Gari and Sam are still trying to figure out what to do with each other. Just FYI: there won't really be fluff for a ****_long _****time, and, if there is fluff, there won't be a lot of it.**

**We're now on the final stretch of this story, seeing as I plan on making it around thirty chapters like the first one. It may be a tiny bit longer, but it definitely will not be shorter. I'm starting to get nervous now, and it's kinda taking over my brain even more than usual, which isn't good considering that I have my History final coming up this week… Eesh.**

**Um… I think that's about it. So review it, lovelies! I'm gonna go catch some ZZZs!**

**Dasvidaniya!**


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